


Choices We Make

by theHunter_and_theNinja



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Criminal Minds (US TV) Season/Series 09, Getting Together, M/M, Trans Spencer Reid, except Emily Prentiss stayed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theHunter_and_theNinja/pseuds/theHunter_and_theNinja
Summary: A long time ago, Spencer had to make a difficult choice. Now he wonders if he made the right one. And if he had chosen differently, would those women still be alive?
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 59
Kudos: 138





	1. New Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No overall warning. Each chapter will list the warnings that pertain to it.  
> *There will NOT be any Major Character Deaths.
> 
> WARNING: Graphic Descriptions of Violence

Spencer groaned in defiance as his phone rang on his bedside table. He huffed in annoyance, but reached over and grabbed it. Without even looking at the screen he flipped it open and answered it.

“Reid,” he said into the phone, trying his best to not sound like a grumpy asshole.

Garcia’s voice came over the phone, “I know it’s early 187, but we’ve got a case.”

“That’s an understatement,” he grumbled, “It’s not even 3 AM yet. Why couldn’t this wait until morning?”

“A pregnant woman was abducted from her home about an hour ago,” she replied, “Third one in a month. You’re needed in Las Vegas now.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in 30.”

“Hotch wants everyone to head directly to the jet, you’ll learn about the case on the way. PG out.”

Reid sighed as he flipped the phone closed. Garcia has been after him for months to get a smartphone, but he kept resisting. Resigning himself to the cold air outside of his covers, he pulled the covers back and climbed out of bed. He shivered as his bare chest hit the air, but quickly shook it off and made his way into the kitchen.

He quickly started a pot of coffee before making his way into the bathroom. He took care of his normal routine, squinting in frustration at his unruly hair before giving up deciding it was good enough for now. He threw on the outfit he kept ready to go on a chair in the corner of his room, grabbed his go bag, a travel mug full of coffee and left.

When he entered the jet he noticed Hotch, JJ and Prentiss were already there. JJ looked as put together as always with a small coffee in her hand. Hotch was very much the same. Reid was pretty sure the man slept in his suit. Prentiss, however, looked about as thrilled to be awake as cats are about water. She had a large to-go cup of coffee in her hands, clutching it like it was the last thing keeping her alive.

Feeling the urge to tease her just a little bit he smiled and greeted her.

“Morning, Prentiss,” he said with faux cheeriness as he sat down across from her.

“Shut up, Reid,” she grumbled, glaring at him, “And it’s not morning until I can see the sun.”

He smirked slightly, but heeded her warning and kept his mouth shut. He pulled a book out of his go bag to read while they waited for the rest of their team to arrive.

It wasn’t long before he heard the telltale sounds of Morgan and Rossi making their way up the steps to the fuselage. Reid notices immediately that Morgan looks even less thrilled to be here than Prentiss. But considering it’s currently in the wee hours of Saturday morning, it’s possible Morgan had been just getting home when they got the call. After stowing his go bag, Morgan all but collapsed into the chair next to Reid, closing his eyes.

“Late night?” Reid asked, keeping a straight face as his fingers continued to run down the page in front of him.

He glanced up to see Morgan glaring at him. Apparently he had no self preservation instincts this morning.

“Picked up a beautiful woman at a local bar. We were just arriving at her apartment when I got the call,” he revealed.

“Cock blocked by a serial killer,” Prentiss mumbled into her coffee, “I know the feeling.”

Spencer flinched internally at the mention of the woman. He glanced back down at his book no longer interested in teasing Morgan. He’s had a severe crush on Morgan ever since he’d joined the BAU, but he’s always been too afraid to say anything. Their friendship meant too much for him to risk losing it. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if Morgan liked men. The agent had never said anything about it one way or the other and Reid had never asked.

Reid felt the familiar jerk and rumble as the jet lifted off the runway and into the sky. It wasn’t until they’d reached their normal altitude that Hotch decided to bring up the case. They were all thankful for the couple minutes to wake up or, in Morgan’s case, sober up.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch spoke up, not an ounce of sleep in his voice, “Penelope.”

“It is too early in the morning to think of something nice before the ick, so here we go. Over the past month three women have been abducted from their homes in our boy genius’ hometown of Las Vegas. All under the age of 18 and at least 6 months pregnant. They were all taken and held and tortured for at least three days before... can someone else say it so I don’t have to?”

Hotch finished for her, “He cut their babies out of them. Official cause of death is exsanguination.”

“Yeah, what Hotch said,” Garcia continued, grimacing at the description, “He discarded both women in alleys, leaning their bodies up against dumpsters.”

“Look at the timeline,” Prentiss pointed out, “He took the first victim just under four weeks ago and dumped her three days later. He then waited three weeks before taking the second victim. He dumped her body two days ago and now he’s taken a third. He’s escalating.”

Reid did his best not to react as they discussed the case. The pictures in the folder in front of him were particularly hard to look at. The gaping wound where a life had been growing before being violently snuffed out made him feel sick. Under the table pressed a hand against his abdomen, hoping none of the others would notice and ask him about it.

“So he’s targeting teen moms,” Rossi surmised, “What happened to the babies? They were too young to survive on their own.”

“The bodies of the babies haven’t been recovered.”

“Did they have any other children?” JJ asked, looking down at the file.

“No, just the one they were currently carrying.”

JJ continued, “Any other overlap? What were their social lives like?”

“The first victim, Susan Martett, was big into the world of underage drinking and drugs. She was known as a party girl and has been arrested a couple of times for possession of marijuana. But the second victim, Mary Pickett, was completely the opposite. She’s a straight A student and used to tutor others until she got pregnant. From what I can tell she kept mostly to herself.”

“Okay, so if Mary kept to herself, how did she end up pregnant?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t know,” Garcia shrugged, “I haven’t found any evidence to indicate she had a boyfriend yet.”

“Well, keep digging Garcia,” Hotch instructed, “We need to know who her baby’s father is. He might know something.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Anything on the father of Susan’s baby?” he continued.

“Yes, his name is Jason Linder, but he’s not our guy because he was arrested on drug charges five months ago and sentenced to six months in a juvenile detention center. He gets out in two weeks.”

“Does he know about what happened to Susan?” Prentiss asked.

“Yeah,” Garcia confirmed sadly, “The cop that told him said he was inconsolable after hearing the news. Apparently they’d planned on renting an apartment together after he got out and being a real family. Despite how young they were, he was excited to be a father. What little money he made in prison he sent to Susan.”

“What about the third victim?” Reid asked, wanting to focus on the woman they still had a chance to save.

“Seventeen year old Alexandra Smith was abducted from her home just a few hours ago. Her mother, Jacky Smith, got home from work around 11:30pm and noticed the front door open. As soon as the cops found out she was seven months pregnant, they connected her abduction to the first two and called us in.”

“So she was alone in the house?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah, it’s just her and her mother. The ex-boyfriend, Adam Roland, as far as I can tell, wants nothing to do with the baby. It didn’t take me long to find pictures of him with various other quote ‘girlfriends’ on his social media all taken over the last couple months. There’s been no direct communication between Adam and Alexandra for months that I can find.”

“Was she more like Susan or Mary?” Prentiss asked.

“I’d say closer to Mary. Other than a minor collision with a parked car last year, she’s got a clean record. Average grades and she posts a lot about studying chemistry in college. Overall she seems like a really nice, nerdy ‘girl-next-door’ type.”

“So while the first victim could have been viewed as promiscuous, the last two don’t seem to fit that at all. Was Adam Alexandra’s only boyfriend?”

“I think so,” Garcia said tapping away at her keyboard, “She talks about losing her virginity to him in a text message with her best friend, Samantha Waller. That was approximately seven months ago, so the timeline for her pregnancy fits. Samantha has also posted a lot of online rants verbally bashing Adam for abandoning Alexandra and their unborn baby.”

“Well that could’ve pissed him off,” Morgan reasoned, “Prompted him to go after pregnant women that reminded him of Alexandra until he finally worked up the courage to take the true object of his rage.”

“And look at all the women’s pictures,” Prentiss added, “They could be sisters, they all look so alike. White with brown hair and a slight build.”

“Or the unsub could resent the women for having something he can’t?” Reid suggested, “By literally stealing the children from the womb of their mother, he could be feeling angry at his inability to have a baby. It could be that a woman rejected him when he asked about having kids. Or she’s preventing him from seeing their child for some reason.”

“Another option is that he is the child of a teen mom and he resents her for giving birth to him. Making these women surrogates for his own mother and the children surrogates for himself, wishing he’d never been born,” Prentiss theorized.

“Whatever the case, every minute Alexandra spends with the unsub lessens her chance of making it out of this alive. Getting her back needs to be our number one priority. Any of the torture done to her even before the takes the child could kill the baby,” Hotch concluded, “When we land, Morgan and Reid, I want your two to go to the ME’s office. JJ and Rossi go to Alexandra’s house and take a look at how the unsub got access to the house. Prentiss and I will set up at the local PD.”

They all nodded at their assignments, including Reid despite the sick feeling in his gut. The last thing he wanted to do was see these women’s bodies laid out on a cold exam table. Unlike him, these women had wanted their babies. While they likely hadn’t planned on getting pregnant so young, everything about them read that they were ready to take on the responsibility of being a mother, with or without help.

“You okay, Reid?” Morgan asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he said instinctively, “Oh uh, yeah. I’m good.”

“Really?”

Reid sighed, knowing that if he didn’t give a better answer that Morgan wasn’t going to drop it.

“I just really want to catch this guy,” he supplied.

He could tell from the look on Morgan’s face that he didn’t totally believe him, but he accepted the answer anyway.

“Me too, kid.”


	2. Drop It

Morgan was worried about Reid. During the briefing he’d noticed that he kept shifting in his seat and running his fingers across his stomach. He’s noticed the behavior before during other cases that involved infants or extremely young children. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he was transgender and has the ability to bear children or not. He wondered because sometimes JJ would absentmindedly do the same thing. It was like she was recalling her own child with the motion, but Reid didn’t have any kids.

But Reid had brushed off his concern as per usual. It has always been hard to get the kid to open up about what he was feeling and if this case was going to be especially rough for him, Morgan didn’t want him retreating into himself. On the jet surrounded by the whole team, however, was not the place to start a conversation like that.

Morgan stifled a yawn as he looked away from Reid and out the window.

“You should get some sleep before we land,” Reid smirked, his nose already back in his book, “since, you know, you didn’t get any tonight.”

Morgan snorted at how much of a little shit the kid could be when wanted to, but he just shook his head and closed his eyes.

* * *

He felt like he’d only just fallen asleep when someone forcefully prodded him awake.

“Derek,” came the voice, “We’ve landed. The others have already left.”

He heard the man, definitely Reid, huff in annoyance.

“Come on, Morgan!” he heard the kid hiss, “It’s not my fault you spent your night partying and didn’t get any sleep.”

Morgan swatted at the hand Reid was currently shoving against his shoulder.

“I’m awake,” he grumbled, “But we need to stop and get coffee before we go to the ME’s office.”

“Agreed. I ran out about an hour ago” Reid replied as he got up from his seat and made his way off the jet with Morgan close behind.

They threw their go bags into the back of the SUV and took off. The whole time Reid just stared out the window, his right hand resting on his stomach. At this point Morgan wasn’t even sure Reid was aware he was doing it.

“You sure you’re okay kid? This case is pretty bad, even for us,” he prodded gently, watching his reaction out the corner of his eye.

Reid hummed softly, but didn’t look over at Morgan or reply. Once again, Morgan let it go knowing he probably needed more time before he’d be ready to talk about it.

He pulled into a Starbuck drive thru he saw on the way ignoring Reid’s mumbled complaints about subpar, mass produced coffee. The kid has always been a bit of a coffee snob when he could afford to be. He’d drink the stuff offered at the local precinct when he needed to, but he always preferred it when they could stop and get freshly ground and locally brewed coffee. Morgan knew this, but they were on the clock to find the missing woman, so Starbucks coffee it was.

Morgan got his usual dark roast coffee with cream and sugar while Reid ordered a toasted white chocolate mocha.

“You better watch out Reid,” he teased him as he watched the younger man take a sip of his drink, “All that sugar is gonna rot your teeth.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled defiantly into his drink.

“How much sugar is in that anyway?”

“According to their nutrition table a short, which is approximately the size of an average cup of coffee, of toasted white chocolate mocha has 29 grams of sugar,” he sidestepped easily.

Morgan snorted at the indirect response, “Okay, but that’s a Venti. It’s much bigger than a short. So, I’ll ask again, how much sugar is that?”

“70 grams,” he admitted, not an ounce of shame in his voice.

“Holy shit, pretty boy! I can smell the diabetes from here.”

He rolled his eyes at the older agent, “Well, fruity-smelling breath is one sign of high ketone levels in someone who already has diabetes. When your body can't get energy from glucose, it burns fat in its place. The fat-burning process creates a buildup of acids in your blood called ketones, which can lead to diabetic ketoacidosis. A potentially life threatening disease if left untreated.”

Morgan huffed out a laugh and couldn’t keep himself from smiling at his friend. Reid saw it and childishly stuck his tongue out at him which only caused him to laugh more much to Reid’s annoyance.

He fell quiet after that, just drinking his sugar bomb of a coffee and staring out the window. Morgan could tell that despite his projected nonchalance over the past couple hours that there was something really bothering him. Trying to get the kid to focus on something other than whatever it was that was, Morgan decided to poke the bear a bit.

“Can’t dogs smell stuff like that, too?”

“Yeah, there are even CPL diabetes alert dogs. They can smell the distinct odors that accompany various blood sugar levels. This allows them to alert the person when their blood sugar levels are too low before it becomes dangerous.”

As Reid kept talking, eventually branching off from diabetes into other diseases that dogs can smell, and Morgan listened contentedly. He wouldn’t necessarily be able to remember any of the stuff Reid was saying later, but he still liked listening to his voice. There was something about how the kid spoke when he was infodumping that made him want to listen. Whether it’s because of the confidence he suddenly seems to possess while doing so or simply the fact that he’s in love with man, he isn’t sure.

He’s been in love with Reid for years, but the man had never shown any interest in anyone outside of Maeve. So Morgan kept his feelings for the genius hidden in order to avoid making him uncomfortable. He valued their close friendship too much to jeopardize it when he didn’t even know if the genius liked men. It had taken over a year for him to tell the team he was transgender, but Morgan figured if he was also gay or bi he would’ve said something then instead of waiting.

By the time they pulled into the ME’s office, Reid had already polished off at least half of his coffee despite his constant ramblings about service dogs. The two climbed out of the SUV and made their way inside. It didn’t take Morgan long to notice the doctor had stopped talking as soon as they entered the building. Instead of happily telling him about dogs smelling diseases, he was clutching his coffee in one hand and had the other one shoved deep into his pocket. His shoulders were tense and he seemed on edge once again. Deciding it wasn’t the time to bring it up considering what they were about to go see, Morgan pretended he hadn’t noticed Reid’s shift in behavior.

The two made their way into the back to where Dr. Montara was finishing up her examination of the second victim, Mary Pickett.

“Dr. Montara,” Morgan greeted her, “I’m Special Agent Derek Morgan and this is my colleague, Dr. Reid.”

“Thank you for coming down here so quickly,” she said looking up from her clipboard.

“Of course, we know we’re on the clock. What can you tell us about the victims?”

“Well, both girls endured a fair about of torture before being killed. Based on the burn patterns and bruising, I believe he both beat them and electrocuted them. Some of them are bad enough that I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the babies died before he... removed them.”

“Did the removal show any medical skills?”

“No, I’d say it closer to someone simply picking up a knife and carving the child out of her. It’s very crude work. She bled out in a matter of minutes.”

“Definitely sadistic,” Morgan noted, “While faster than a normal sadist would like, it would’ve been horrifying. Did he drug them?”

“The toxicology reports came back negative.”

“Well, it’s not that hard to control a heavily pregnant woman. Especially when the mother herself is rather small. I mean, they’re tall, but they’re not exactly physically intimidating.”

Reid nodded, but didn’t add anything. His eyes were trained on the gaping wound in her stomach where her baby had been, but the look in his eyes was distant. Morgan realized very quickly that Reid wasn’t in a good headspace to theorize about the unsub right now. His protective side wanted to take Reid outside and never come back, but they had a job to do and a woman and baby to save.

“We’re definitely not looking for anyone in the medical field,” he continued, crossing his arms over his chest to keep from reaching out to Reid, “Did he leave anything behind from the baby?”

“No,” Dr. Montara frowned, “Everything including the umbilical cord is gone.”

Morgan was disappointed by that, “So there’s no way to figure out who the father is based on DNA.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she cut in, “do you have any idea what he wants with the babies? They couldn’t possibly have survived what he did to them.”

“We don’t have a theory yet, sorry.”

She nodded, “Well, I just hope you catch this bastard. In all my years, I have never seen something so horrible.”

“Thanks for all your help, doctor,” Morgan replied as he and Reid headed out the door.

* * *

Reid couldn’t get the image of that Mary’s body out of his head. His brain, which he normally loved, kept conjuring up images of what she would have looked like alive. He could see her sitting in her room studying, one of her hands resting on her protruding stomach. He could see her lightly drawing designs on the stretched skin as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Reid wished it had been like that for him. The wonderment of having another life growing inside him. Instead all he had was fear, anxiety, and shame as he watched his stomach grow with each passing day.

“Kid!” Morgan all but shouted into his ear cause him to jump in his seat.

“What!?” He snapped, the word coming out harsher than he had intended it to.

Morgan leaned away from him, taken aback by his tone, “Okay, what is going on with you? I know cases involving young kids get to you man, but this is something else.”

“Morgan, please just drop it. I’m fine,” he said as he tried to open his door only to find that Morgan had overridden the lock.

He turned and glared at the other agent in annoyance.

“You are clearly not fine and I won’t drop it,” he insisted.

Spencer groaned, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headrest.

He pleaded with Morgan, “I’m sorry I snapped at you, but please let this go.”

“Reid-”

“No, Morgan!” his eyes snapped open and he whipped to the side to fix the older agent with a glare, “What I’m dealing with is none of your business. So stop asking.”

“I’m not going to wait for you to collapse or lash out before we talk about what’s going on in that big brain of yours. You remember how well that worked out during that spree killer case in Texas?”

“What happened during the Savage case has nothing to do with this.”

“Kid, you willingly walked into the path of a serial killer unarmed with no vest on.”

“And I got him to surrender! I saved his life.”

“That’s not the point!” Morgan shouted.

Reid flinched at his friend’s tone and he immediately saw Morgan’s demeanor soften.

“I’m worried about you, kid. That’s all,” he said, deliberately lowering the volume of his voice.

“I know,” Reid whispered, curling his arms protectively around himself, “But I also need you to understand that I’m not ready to talk about this.”

Morgan stared at him long and hard before taking a deep breath, “Promise me that when it gets to be too much, you’ll come find me.”

Reid knew if he didn’t agree, Morgan would never let him out of the car until he told him exactly what was going on. No matter how much he loved and trusted the older man, he was not ready for him to know that when he was 15 he’d given birth and put the baby up for adoption.

It’s his biggest secret, so deep and dark that it isn’t even in his FBI file. Hotch doesn’t know about it. Hell, he never even told Gideon. Granted, the only reason Garcia doesn’t know is because she doesn’t know to look for it, but that’s how he likes it. The last thing he wants is for Garcia to go snooping into the adoption world and figuring out that 1, he has a son and 2, who his baby grew up to be. That wasn’t information he was sure he’d ever be able to handle. Plus, Garcia cannot keep secrets. The second she found out, everyone else would know too.

“I promise that IF it becomes too much, I will come find you,” he agreed reluctantly.

“And I’m gonna hold you to that,” Morgan stated with an air of finality as he finally unlocked Reid’s door and allowed him to get out.


	3. Past Experiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/Referenced past rape/non-con

Sometimes Reid really hated being on a team full of brilliant profilers. He must’ve looked like he’d seen a ghost after arriving at the police station from the ME’s office because the entire team has been all over him. JJ and Hotch both asked if he was okay, Prentiss brought him a sandwich and coffee from his favorite cafe for lunch, and Rossi gave him one of his subtle, not subtle “if you need to talk I’m here” lines. Thankfully Morgan has backed off on the questioning, but he can still feel the agent’s eyes on him whenever they’re in the same room. In response, Reid did what he does best, pushed them away and pretended like nothing was wrong. It’s worked consistently for ten years, so he figured it would work this time as well.

It’s been over six hours since they’d arrived and it felt like they were no closer to stopping this unsub or saving Alexandra and her baby. All they knew right now was that he was a white male probably in his late 20s to early 30s based on his level of organization. He harbors a deep resentment for teen mothers. Most likely because he is either the son of one or because he sees them as immoral. The abduction sites showed no signs of forced entry which means the women opened the door for him. So he doesn’t appear threatening and is likely handsome and charming. He could also be using some type of ruse like car trouble or a person in distress.

“How’s the geographical profile coming?” Hotch asked, breaking through his mental dialogue.

“It’s not as helpful as I hoped it would be,” he admitted, “He’s all over the map. According to this his comfort zone is pretty much all of Las Vegas. All three women were taken from different suburbs and their bodies dumped in different areas of the city. Right now all it tells us is that he’s mobile and definitely a local.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

Reid nodded. He had hoped the profile would narrow down to a much smaller area than his entire hometown.

“Las Vegas has approximately 591,496 permanent residents currently and that number is only growing.”

“Don’t worry, Reid. We’ll catch him,” Hotch assured him.

Reid looked him in the eye, “I know, but will it be before or after he’s killed Alexandra and her baby?”

Hotch didn’t say anything. He walked back over to the table where Morgan was sifting through witness statements. None of the victims had security cameras of any kind on their homes and all the disposal sights were out of sight of the camera owned by the surrounding businesses. It was infuriating how little they actually had on this unsub. He was clearly highly intelligent and organized. This meant he most likely stalked each victim and scouted out the disposal sights beforehand. It made Reid want to scream in frustration.

Prentiss and Rossi walked into the room returning from interviewing Alexandra’s mother.

“Anything?” Hotch asked them.

Prentiss sighed as her shoulder dropped slightly, “She can’t recall seeing anyone suspicious or new in the neighborhood over the past couple months. Asked about her daughter’s friends and she said most of them turned their backs on her daughter when she got pregnant. She did give us one name, Rodney Shafer. Garcia is pulling his information now.”

“His age doesn’t fit the profile, but at least we have a lead,” Morgan crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m getting nothing from these witness statements at the dump site. None of them saw anything helpful.”

Just as he finished talking, his phone rang. He opened it and switched it to speaker so the rest of the team could hear.

“Hey mama,” he spoke into the phone, “give me something good on this Rodney guy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry angelfish,” Garcia's sad sigh came over the speaker, “I looked into him and unfortunately he is definitely not our guy. He’s currently doing a stint in rehab and has been there for the past two weeks.”

“Damn,” Morgan said, voicing all of their reactions, “We have anything to go on?”

Reid listened to the conversation as he glared at his map. He was missing something obvious. He could feel it in his bones and it was pissing him off.

_ “Why those alleys?” _ he thought to himself, his curled fingers pressed against his lips.

Morgan referred to the position as his genius stance. Said he always did his best thinking when he was posed like that. There’s something familiar about those specific areas but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Garcia?” he called out, not turning away from the board.

“Whatcha got Mighty Professor?”

“Can you compile a list of all the businesses in a two block radius of each of the dump sites?”

“And here I thought you were going to challenge me.”

Morgan quirked his eyebrows, “You onto something, kid?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “These areas are all familiar, but I can’t quite place why. It could be nothing at all.”

“Okay,” Penelope announced, “I’ve got a list of all the businesses in those areas.”

“Narrow it down to business types present at both scenes.”

“Gotcha. The only businesses present at both scenes are McDonalds, auto shops, and oh...”

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan asked immediately.

“Adoption agencies,” she revealed, “Both scenes have an adoption center right there.”

Reid could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. That’s why these areas were so familiar. He’d done extensive research on various adoption agencies when he was pregnant. He needed an agency that prioritized keeping the identities of the birth parents secret. He did not want his child accidentally discovering who he was. The last thing he wanted was to have his son show up at his doorstep and start asking questions. No child should have to live with the knowledge that they were conceived through rape.

“Adoption agencies and teen moms,” Rossi mused, “What if the unsub is the child of a teen mom who gave him up for adoption?”

“That makes a lot of sense,” JJ agreed, “If he only just found out he was adopted or that his birth mom gave him up willingly, that could be one hell of a stressor.”

“But not everyone who finds out they’re adopted turned into a killer,” Morgan pointed out, “So what’s the trigger?”

Nobody said anything and Reid was too focused on hoping people didn’t question how he came up with this to theorize about the answer. If any of them thought about it too much--and didn’t chock it up to his ability to seemingly know everything--they might start to wonder why he found the areas of two different adoption agencies familiar.

“Garcia,” Hotch instructed, “I want you to compile a list of every boy, ages 25 to 35, who were born in Nevada and willingly surrendered before the age of two. Narrow it down to single teenaged mothers.”

“Okay, but this is going to take a while,” she warned them, “A lot of these records are sealed and while I shouldn’t have a lot of trouble unsealing them, I am going to have to do this manually. But I will grab my shovel, maybe my backhoe, and start digging. Hit you back when I have something. Garcia out!”

When Hotch gave that order Reid panicked for a split second before his brain kicked back online and he remembered his son would only be 18 years old now, so his file wouldn’t end up in that search.

His son was born on December 12, 1996. He’d been a terrified 15 year old kid giving birth to another kid in a hospital room with no one there to support him. His mother hadn’t been lucid enough to help him when he went into labor and hadn’t really had any friends. It was one of the worst, most exhausting days of his entire life.

“So, what can we do until Garcia gets back to us with those names?” Prentiss asked.

“I want to talk to Mary’s mother,” Rossi answered, “We need to find out who her baby’s father was. We need to clear him as a suspect.”

Hotch nodded his agreement, “Good idea. Take Reid with you.”

Reid’s head snapped up at the mention of his name, but he didn’t argue with the order. It would be good to have something to take his mind off his son. It would also be nice to get away from Morgan’s intense stare for a little while. The only bad part is he’ll be alone with the most experienced profiler on the team.

* * *

The two walked up to the front door of the Pickett's home. The porch was littered with flower arrangements, crosses with ribbons on them, and teddy bears holding hearts.

“I wonder why they haven’t taken any of this stuff inside?” Rossi wondered aloud as he knocked on their door.

Reid shrugged, “Maybe because looking at all this stuff just further reminds them that their daughter and grandchild are dead. She was only about 8 weeks short of giving birth. Receiving condolence flowers instead of ones celebrating the birth of their grandchild must feel like salt being rubbed into a wound.”

Rossi nodded in understanding, but dropped the subject as the door was opened to reveal a very tired looking Mrs. Pickett.

“Hello ma’am,” Rossi greeted her, pulling out his credentials, “I’m Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’re helping investigate your daughter and grandchild’s death. Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

The woman glanced back and forth between the two of them, but allowed them inside.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologized, “I haven’t really felt like cleaning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rossi brushed her concern off, “Let’s talk about Mary. We know she was pregnant, but we don’t know who the father was and we need to clear him as a suspect. Do you?”

Mrs. Pickett shook her head, “She never gave us a name. I’m not even sure if she ever told the boy he was going to be a father. She didn’t like to talk about him.”

That set alarm bells off in Reid head.

“She ever give a reason as to why she didn’t want to talk about him?” Reid asked her softly.

“All she would ever say was that he wouldn’t want to be involved.”

“And you don’t have any clue to who it might be? Not even a suspicion?” Rossi prodded gently.

She shook her head again, “I’m sorry, but no. I didn’t even know she was seeing someone when she told me she was pregnant.”

Reid shifted uncomfortably in his chair, “Tell me this. Was she acting distant or closed off, like she was hiding something?”

“I mean, a little, but I assumed it was just her hiding the pregnancy. She didn’t tell me about it until she was almost four months along.”

Reid nodded, but he kept pushing, “Think back, even before that. Would she avoid answering questions about school? Would she often get home late, but not mention hanging out with friends or having detention?”

Mrs. Pickett’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, “She would tutor kids after class so we never questioned when she came home late.”

“Would she ever come home from those tutoring sessions and immediately isolate herself? Not talk to anyone and go directly to her room, refusing to come out unless you forced her to?”

Reid could see Rossi’s realization of what he was getting at in his body language as he leaned back in his chair.

”Yes... how did you know that?”

Reid sighed deeply, “Just one more question. What was your daughter’s favorite class? Or, which class did she use to love, but suddenly started to avoid talking about at all costs?”

“Well she’s always loved literature, but now that I think about it the last couple months of school she avoided talking about it. Every time I brought up Shakespeare or Edgar Allen Poe, two of her favorite authors, she wouldn’t want to talk about them.”

Not wanting to jump to any conclusions in front of an already emotionally fragile woman, Reid decided to wait until he had confirmation of his theory before telling her.

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Pickett, but I think we’ve learned all we need to,” Rossi cut in having apparently decided the same thing.

“What do you mean? What’s going on?” she demanded to know, standing up from the couch.

“It’s nothing ma’am,” Reid quickly lied to assure her, “It’s just that the baby’s father might be one of the students she was tutoring.”

“Oh, right. That makes sense. She did spend a lot of one-on-one time with them,” she relaxed back onto the couch.

Reid gave her a half hearted smile as he and Rossi made their way out of the house. They were silent as they got back into the SUV.

“How much do you want to bet she was being molested by her English teacher?” Rossi asked him as he started the car.

Reid ignored him and pulled out his phone to call Garcia.

“Got something else for me to dig up, brainiac?” Garcia chirped as soon as she picked up the call.

“Yeah, can you tell me who Mary Pickett’s English teacher was last year?”

“Uh, okay.”

There was a moment of silence as the tech genius did her thing. Spencer could just clicking of her keyboard as she typed.

“His name is Victor Beving. He’s been an English teacher at Coronado High School for the past ten years. He’s heavily involved in their mentoring and tutoring programs, including the one that our second victim, Mary, was in.”

“Does he have a criminal record?”

Another beat of silence before, “Oh my god, how is this man employed by a high school? In his youth, living in a small town in Texas, he had multiple arrests for voyeurism and sexual harassment, but he was never convicted of anything. One of the perks of your dad being the mayor. As an adult, he was arrested in Oklahoma for stalking and sexually harassing his ex-girlfriend. She was issued a restraining order. He then moved back to Texas and got a job as a teacher which he quit only two years later after rumors that he was sleeping with his students surfaced. Nothing was ever proven, but still.”

Rossi looked up at Reid, “Well, I think it’s time we have a chat with this Victor Beving.”

“Definitely,” Reid agreed, “You got his address, Garcia?”

“Oh boy wonder, you should know this by now. It’s already sent.”

He chuckled softly, “Right, sorry. I’ll let Hotch know where we’re going. You keep working on those adoption records.”

“Roger roger, 187,” and she was gone.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” Rossi said as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

Reid couldn’t agree more.


	4. Victor Beving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/Referenced past rape/non-con

Reid could feel his stomach churning with anger as he and Rossi approached Victor Beving’s front door. They’d decided to speak to him as witness, someone who simply knew Mary Pickett, not as a suspect. They wanted him to be as open as possible. If he for one second suspected that they knew about his relationship with Mary before they were ready, he could lawyer up and refuse to help them. This isn’t helped by the fact they have no concrete evidence to prosecute him. If they had the baby’s DNA, they could test it to see if he was the father, but since they don’t, they have to play it cool.

Hotch had agreed that he had motive to kill Mary. If anyone had discovered that the baby was his, it would ruin him. While it didn’t fit their initial profile, it was a very compelling alternative option. If they’d known from the beginning that Mary was being molested, Beving would’ve been their first guess. Even if he was innocent of killing her, however, they might still be able to charge him with statutory rape. That alone made Reid want to ruin his night, if not his life.

Rossi knocked on the door, but didn’t announce who they were.

“Who’s there?” a man’s voice called out.

“Supervisory Special Agent Rossi and Dr. Reid. We’re with the FBI,” Reid responded, “We’d like to talk with you about Mary.”

There was silence on the other side of the door. He was most likely debating his options. On one hand, he could refuse them entry, but that would make him look extremely suspicious. Or two, he could let them and give them a chance to profile him. Reid wasn’t sure which option he’d prefer.

Finally, the door swung open to reveal Victor Beving. He looked close to Reid’s age, early thirties. He was dressed in a rumpled white t-shirt and stained sweatpants. The man smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks and based on his facial hair growth, he hasn’t shaved recently either. Behind him, Reid could make out a trash can filled to the brim with empty beer cans and greasy take out boxes.

Suddenly less excited to confront the man, Reid still asked for permission to enter his home.

“Do you mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?”

The man stared at him, but nodded and stepped back to allow them inside. Reid wrinkled his nose as the stench of unwashed clothes and rotting food smacked him in the face. Everything about the room read that the man was struggling with some serious depression. Reid watched as the man lumbered back over to the couch and effectively flopped down onto it, the half finished pizza sitting next to him jumping slightly out of its box.

“What do you want to know?” he all but mumbled.

Rossi glanced over at Reid, both of them shocked at the state of the room and man. Not wanting to sit down anywhere, the stained furniture looking particularly dubious, Reid opted to stand while questioning him. If they ended up arresting him, he was definitely going to let Rossi do the honors.

 _”The number of germs that have to be on that man right now,”_ Reid shuddered at the thought.

“What can you tell us about Mary?” Rossi asked, easing the man into a false sense of security.

Beving shrugged reaching for his half empty beer, “She was one of my best students. Always eager to learn. She would even stay after school and help me tutor those who needed it.”

“We know she was a tutor. What we’re wondering is if the father of her baby was one of the students she helped,” Rossi continued.

He shook his head, “No, she wasn’t the kind of girl to sleep around.”

“And how would you know what her sexual life was like?” Reid asked him, raising his eyebrow and pushing a little harder.

The man glared at him.

“We spent a lot of time together,” he explained, “she was totally devoted to her boyfriend.”

Reid bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep his mouth in check.

“Really?” Rossi asked, disbelief flooding his tone, “Her mother and all her friends said she wasn’t seeing anyone. Nothing on her social media points to her being in a relationship either.”

“She didn’t like to publicize her personal life, that’s all.”

“Interesting. So she told none of her closest friends about the _‘love of her life,’_ but she told you? Her English teacher.”

“Yes.”

“Please tell me you realize how _unusual_ that is?”

Victor didn’t respond, but he couldn’t look at either of them. His gaze was fixed firmly on the ground in front of him.

“You know what I think?” Reid asked, “I think you might have been that ‘ _boyfriend_.’ Am I wrong?”

His eyes snapped back up to Reid, the fear clear on his eyes.

“I think,” he continued, “that you were molesting her. That’s how she got pregnant when she seemingly wasn’t in a relationship or sleeping around. According to her mother, in the months leading up to the discovery of her pregnancy, she was showing classic signs associated with hiding abuse. She was distant, short tempered, things she once loved she started to despise because she could also associate them with you and the abuse-”

“We were in love!” the man roared, standing abruptly.

Reid felt his hand go instinctively towards his gun, but he didn’t draw it just yet.

“She loved me!” Victor raged.

“She was only sixteen!” Rossi shouted at him, “Possibly even younger when you started grooming her.”

“When she turned eighteen, we were going to get married. Move away from this place and start a life together. When I found out she was pregnant with my baby, I was so happy. We were starting a family.”

“We know about your criminal record, Victor,” Reid snapped at him, “Mary isn’t the first girl you’ve had inappropriate relations with.”

“Those allegations were lies!”

“You really expect us to believe that when you moved to Las Vegas immediately after and started doing the exact same thing?” Rossi stared at the man in disbelief.

Reid felt like he was going to explode. He could feel the bile rising in his throat as he listened to Victor talk about his relationship with Mary. He refused to believe that it was consensual. He couldn’t, not with the behaviour her mother had described. He recognized those patterns all too well.

“Mary was terrified! Ashamed! She didn’t love you,” Reid hissed, top lip curling in disgust, “She let you do those things out of fear, petrified by what you would do to her if she turned you in. Scared nobody would believe her even if she told them. She went home every night and hid the abuse from her family out of shame. Thinking _‘I keep letting it happen, so it must be my fault, right?’_ You raped her and yet you claim it was love! Maybe, in some horribly sick and twisted way, you did love her, but she certainly didn’t love you.”

“Stop!” the man yelled, his face turning red with rage, “You don’t know anything!”

But that word only made Reid angrier.

“Oh, you want me to stop?” Reid scoffed, his eyes flashing with anger, “Tell me. Did she ever ask you, beg you to stop? Did you ever look into her eyes as you were raping her and notice the terror in them? Did her begging ever once stop you?!”

“Reid!” Rossi warned him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back.

He hadn’t even realized he’d started walking forward. His breathing was harsh as he stared at the man.

He took a deep breath and looked over at the older agent, “Just cuff him. Any more questions we have for him can be asked back at the station.”

With that, he walked out of the house and into the cool night air. His hand flew to his stomach, trying to quell the phantom ache that seemed to continually radiate from the area. He took a few deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, but the bile in his throat kept rising. Knowing what was coming, he quickly placed a hand against the side of the house as he threw up what little food he’d eaten that day into the man’s sad excuse for a garden. Beving had reminded him too much of his past. If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t really been yelling at Victor. Part of him had been demanding answers from another teacher. A chemistry professor who was long since dead.

He wrinkled his nose at the smell and sour taste in his mouth. He felt like shit, but he didn’t want Rossi to see him like this. He quickly stood up and moved away from the house. He climbed into the passenger seat and washed his mouth out with water, spitting the vomit tainted water out onto the grass to prevent Rossi from seeing it. Finally, just as Rossi was hauling Victor out of his house in handcuffs, he popped a stick of his favorite peppermint flavored gum into his mouth to help hide the smell.

Rossi all but shoved the man into the back seat, showing no care at all if the man was comfortable or not. Reid could feel the older agent’s eyes on him, the same way he could feel Morgan’s back at the precinct.

The drive back was silent. Neither of them wanted to discuss what had happened back in that house in front of the suspect. It wasn’t until Victor was being walked into the station by a couple of beat cops that Rossi pulled him aside.

“You okay, kid?” he asked softly in what Spencer immediately recognized as the tone he normally used to talk to victims, “You really unleashed on him back there. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“Guess I’ve been spending too much time with Morgan,” he joked, but it fell horribly flat.

Rossi gave him a look that clearly meant, _“You really expect me to buy that?”_

He hung his head a bit, “I know. I don’t know what got into me.”

“That’s not it.”

Reid looked at his friend confused, “It’s not?”

“You know, contrary to popular belief, you have a habit of letting your emotions influence how you interact with people.”

Spencer just stared at him, too shocked to say anything.

“Owen Savage, you went after pretty much everyone in West Bune for the way they treated him. The FBI Senate Committee, you were combative with them the entire time they interviewed you about what happened with Doyle. And let’s not forget about how long you shunned JJ because she didn’t tell you Emily was still alive. When you care deeply about something, you tend to let your emotions dictate your actions. So the question here is, why did that man get to you so much?”

Reid hated to admit it to himself, but Rossi had a point. While he could admit his emotions could get out of control sometimes, he’s never really unleashed on an suspect the way he did with Victor Beving. The problem is, he knows why Victor got under his skin so bad, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Rossi the truth. That one detail, that he was molested by his chemistry professor at Caltech when he was 15, could cause his entire secret to spill out. He wasn’t prepared to deal with that fallout. Nobody knew that secret, not even his mother. When she asked who the father of his baby was, he’d lied and said it was another student. She had never questioned him about it again.

“Morgan,” he lied, crossing his arms in front of him like a shield.

Rossi gave him a confused look, “What about Morgan?”

Spencer sighed, “Every time we go up against someone who’s molested minors, all I can think about is what Morgan went through with Carl Buford.”

“Okay, but you’ve still never been that aggressive before, kid.”

“This case has been particularly rough,” he admitted, “I look at those women’s bodies and can’t help but picture them as they were. Alive and anxiously awaiting the birth of their babies. Well, all except maybe Mary. She was probably ashamed and terrified.”

“Yeah, but she could’ve had an abortion. I believe she loved and wanted that baby, even though it was conceived under such horrible circumstances.”

“You can’t possibly be sure of that,” Reid argued, “She could’ve chosen to carry the child to term for a variety of reasons. Her mom’s catholic, so maybe it was religious beliefs. Maybe she was too scared to go through with an abortion and just kept putting it off until it was too late. Maybe they couldn’t afford it. Maybe she reasoned that it wasn’t the baby’s fault it was created and that they deserved a chance at life. There are so many reasons why someone would carry a baby to term besides love.”

Spencer didn’t stick around to gauge Rossi’s reaction. Instead he harshly turned away and made a beeline for the conference room not wanting to be anywhere near where Beving was supposed to be being questioned. Part of him worried that he was going to figure it out, but he also knew that if anyone could keep a theory about his past to himself, it was Rossi. He would never openly speculate about his private life with the rest of the team and for that Reid was thankful.

He just really hoped the older man wouldn’t try to have a heart-to-heart with him about it when they got back home.


	5. Departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/referenced past rape/non-con

Morgan crossed his arms as he looked at the man, Victor Beving, through the interrogation room window. The man looked utterly defeated and the interview hadn’t even started yet. This guy, as much of a scumbag as he is, isn’t their unsub. He wasn’t displaying any of the rage towards Mary that they’d profiled. According to Rossi, the only time he got mad was when Reid told him Mary never loved him. He wasn’t entirely sure what went down at Beving’s house, but the look on Rossi’s face as he followed Reid back into the station told him something happened.

The door opened behind him and Rossi stepped into the room.

“So, which one of us is going in there?” the older agent asked, “Or are we turning him right over to the local police?”

Morgan shrugged, “You’d probably be best since you’ve already got a rapport with him.”

“I’m not too sure about that. Pretty sure Reid destroyed any good will he or I could possibly have with this guy.”

He turned to stare at Rossi, disbelief clear on his face, “Seriously?”

Rossi nodded, tapping his fingers on the outside of his pants pockets, “Oh yes. Our boy genius really tore this guy a new one.”

“Reid?”

“Yep. Last time I saw him that mad was when we went to interview Dr. Arthur Malcolm about his daughter.”

“Hard case to forget. The man was a pedophile who raped his own daughter and then subjected her to electroshock therapy to keep her quiet, right?”

“Yeah, but even that was a controlled, seething anger. This time he just unleashed. For a moment there I thought fire was going to shoot out of his eyes and turn Beving into a pile of smoking ash.”

Morgan could not believe his ears. Dr. Spencer Reid, who admittedly could let his emotions run away with him sometimes, had been confrontationally aggressive with someone?

“I’m not sure if I entirely believe you, Rossi,” he admitted, glancing back at the guy sitting in the interrogation room, “I mean the kid can get angry, that’s for certain, but his anger usually takes the form of passive aggression.”

“Trust me, Morgan. If I had not seen it myself, I would be saying exactly the same thing.”

The door opened behind them and Hotch walked in, “So what all do we know about this guy?”

“Well, we know he’s a sexual predator with a predilection for teenage girls, but we also know he is way too depressed and apathetic to carry out the level of violence we see on our victims. He’s a bastard, but he’s not our unsub,” Rossi explained.

“I heard Reid laid into him pretty hard.”

“I believe the word ‘massacred’ would best applied on that point. If the kid could fight like he talks, it would’ve been TKO by the end of the first sentence.”

“Nice,” Hotch admitted, briefly giving one of his rare soft smiles, “but we should keep an eye on him. Something’s going on.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one who sees it,” Morgan chimed in, “Ever since we took this case, he’s been off. He refuses to talk to me about it.”

Rossi sighed, “Well, you know Reid. Kid won’t talk until he’s ready or he collapses, whichever comes first.”

“I really hope it’s not the latter,” Hotch added, “but if we’re going based on his previous track record, that’ll be exactly what happens.”

Morgan nodded his agreement, “I’m pretty sure it would be easier to punch through a 10-foot thick cement wall than to get Reid to open up when he doesn’t want to.”

Moving away from the topic of his youngest agent, Hotch made his way up to the glass.

“Do we think he knows anything more?” he asked them.

Rossi shrugged, “I honestly don’t know. While the relationship wasn’t consensual, he was definitely infatuated with her. You should’ve seen his house. If you looked up depression in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of that guy’s living room next to it. The news of her and his baby’s death probably devastated him.”

Morgan’s phone went off and he picked it up to see that Garcia was calling.

“Give it to me, baby girl,” he said as he answered the call.

“Fast and hard or slow and sweet?” she clapped back and he could hear her smirk through the phone.

He chuckled, “You know how I like it, dollface.”

“Gotcha, slow and sweet it is,” she teased, causing his smile to widen, “I was doing some more digging on our girl Mary since we just found out that her baby daddy is a skeezy thirty year old teacher.”

“Naturally.”

“Well get this, sugar. Turns out that she was looking at adoption agencies. She was going to put the baby up for adoption, she wasn’t keeping them.”

“Well that definitely proves Reid’s theory that she wasn’t actually in love with Victor. She was just too scared to tell anyone what was going on.”

“Yes, so that got me thinking about Alexandra. She also has no spousal support, lives with just her mother, and has academic aspirations beyond a high school diploma. She too thought about putting her baby up for adoption. She didn’t decide to go through with it because she stopped the process two months ago, but still.”

“What about the first victim, Susan Martett?”

“Yes, but all I can find is a couple of phone calls over six months ago,” she admitted, “She never actually started the process. I’ll bet as soon as she told Jason, and realized he was actually excited about becoming a father, she decided to keep the baby.”

“Okay, thank you baby girl.”

“You, my god of chocolate thunder, are welcome.”

Morgan couldn’t help the smile that split his face as she hung up,

“What did Garcia give you?” Rossi asked.

“Turns out all three of our victims considered giving their babies up for adoption at one point, but only Mary was actually going to go through with it,” he relayed.

“Well that knocks Beving’s ‘we were in love’ defense out of the park,” Rossi observed looking back at the man, “So what does this tell us about the unsub?”

“We should discuss this development with the rest of the team,” Hotch suggested.

“What about Beving?” Rossi asked.

“Since he didn’t know she was putting the baby up for adoption, I doubt he knows our unsub,” Hotch explained, “Someone with that kind of access to knowledge has to work closely with or even in the adoption world.”

They all agreed and left the room to go find JJ, Prentiss, and Reid.

* * *

It didn’t take them long to find them. They were all sitting in their designated conference room discussing what the unsub might be doing with the babies.

“He can’t be raising them,” JJ said, crossing her arms, “The way he took them out of mothers and the time he did it, they couldn’t possibly have survived. Susan was only 26 weeks, Mary was 34 weeks, and Alexandra is 30 weeks.”

“Hold on, can’t babies survive at 34 weeks?” Prentiss pointed out.

“Technically yes, but they’d need special equipment like incubators, IVs, and breathing tubes,” Spencer contributed, “A baby born at 34 weeks has the same chance of survival as a full term baby, though they are more likely to suffer from chronic health conditions. Babies born at 24 weeks, however, only have a 60-70 percent chance. Premature babies would also be kept in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit for up to three to four weeks before their original due date. Without NICU care it is extremely unlikely that any of the babies survived for very long, if they survived the initial extraction at all.”

“Okay, so why didn’t he dump the babies along with the mothers?” Prentiss asked, moving to sit down on the edge of the conference table.

“I’m not sure,” Reid admitted, “but it could have something to do with the idea that the babies are surrogates for the unsub. If he’s a narcissist, he might be able to get rid of the babies even if they’re dead because it would be like throwing himself away.”

“So what, he holds onto them?”

“Oh god,” JJ gagged, “What if they’re his trophies?”

Morgan grimaced at the thought.

“Maybe we can shed some new light on the situation,” Morgan chimed in, “Garcia found an interesting connection between our victims.”

“What is it?” Reid asked.

“They all considered giving their babies up for adoption. From what she found, Mary was going to go through with it while Alexandra and Susan changed their minds.”

“That could be why he’s targeting adoption agencies for the dump sites. He could be angry at his birth mother for giving him up,” Prentiss proposed.

“What if the family that he was placed with turned out to be abusive?” JJ added, “He could resent his birth mother for seemingly abandoning him to that fate.”

“That would explain the torture done to the women, but why wouldn’t he just go after women who’ve already given up their babies?” Hotch pondered, “Why also kill the children?”

“He could believe he’s saving them,” Reid offered, “If the unsub was placed into an abusive environment it’s possible he sees killing babies before they’re born as an act of mercy. It would also explain why he doesn’t just dump them with the mothers. He doesn’t see them as trash. I’ll bet he buries them and even possibly feels remorse for them.”

Morgan watched Spencer’s body language closely as he spoke. He kept shifting from one foot to another, he was sweating and his blink rate was elevated. The kid was clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, but he wasn’t removing himself from the situation. Again, Morgan wondered what he was hiding. That’s when he noticed he was also chewing gum. Reid only chewed gum when he was feeling anxious because it gave his mouth something else to do than rattle off information at the speed of sound.

A knock on the door behind them pulled them from their speculations. Morgan turned his head to see the lead detective, Officer Hopkins, entering the room, a grim look on his face.

“What happened?” Hotch asked, but they all already knew what he was going to say.

The detective sighed, “A couple heading back to their car found Alexandra Smith’s body lying in a small alley between buildings in the plaza on the corner of South Eastern and Tropicana.”

Morgan felt his heart drop at the news, and based on the movements of his team, they all felt the same way.

Spencer spoke up, already putting a pin on the board, “Was there an adoption agency nearby?”

“Yeah. Her body was leaned up against the side of the Open Arms Adoption Agency in a parking lot, right next to a dumpster.”

Morgan shook his head, “He didn’t keep her for three days. Something’s changed.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s different,” Hopkins continued, “He didn’t cut the baby out of her this time.”

They all looked at each other in shock.

“That is way too big of a departure from his MO to be a conscious decision,” Prentiss pointed out, “She must’ve died from the torture before he could complete his ritual.”

Hotch nodded, “Which means he didn’t get what he wanted from her. He’ll be even more dangerous now. Prentiss and Morgan, go to this new crime scene and see what you can find. If he’s angry, he could have gotten sloppy and made a mistake. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

* * *

Morgan walked with Prentiss to where they could see Alexandra’s body leaned up against the side of the building. Her body had been half covered in trash, again speaking to how the unsub viewed these women. He could already see her heavily swollen stomach from where her baby had been growing. The sight made him sick and he found himself mentally thanking Hotch for not choosing Reid to come see this. He’d had enough trouble looking at them in the ME’s office. He didn’t want to know how it would affect the kid to see them like this.

“Look at her chest,” Prentiss started, pointing to the multiple stab wounds visible on her chest.

As they got closer, they realized that there weren’t just stab wounds on her upper chest, but all the way down to her pelvis.

“There’s not a lot of blood flow out of any of the wounds,” Morgan noted bending down to get a closer look, “I think these were all done post mortem.”

“So we were right,” Prentiss concluded, “She probably died before he could complete his ritual and he got angry. Didn’t even show any remorse for the baby this time.”

“He’s got to be hunting for his next victim as we speak.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. He did all this work without any release. He’s going to attack again and soon.”

Morgan moved away from Alexandra’s body, unable to look at it anymore. Instead he observed the scene. He knew the unsub had to have been in the same spot as him, so he checked for cameras. He felt a little flicker of hope in his chest as he spotted one across the way at a medical center. He made his way over to Detective Hopkins.

“I think that camera might have caught a glimpse of the unsub,” he informed him, “You should have your men get that footage.”

“Right away,” he agreed, “I’ll have it sent directly to your analyst in Quantico.”

“Thanks.”

Prentiss walked up next to him.

“Notice anything else?” he asked her.

“Other than the fact that he’s a bastard, no.”

Morgan nodded, he really wanted to take this guy down. Killing pregnant women was horrible on a whole nother level because he was taking more than one life each time he did it. Deciding there was nothing more for them to learn at the scene, they went back to the precinct. They returned just in time to hear Garcia’s analysis of the footage.

“I’m sorry, crime fighters, but there is no way I can use this footage to get facial recognition on him,” she revealed sadly, “There’s no clear shot of his face.”

“Were you able to learn anything about the unsub?” Hotch asked, hoping to salvage something from the grainy video.

“Well, I was able to get his height which is between 5’ 11” and 6’ 1.” I can also tell you he is definitely white, skinny, and has dark colored hair. He also appears to walk with a slight limp. If you watch his left leg you can see him favoring it.”

“I wonder if the injury came while committing these crimes or from earlier in his life,” JJ wondered aloud looking at the footage.

“Considering the ease and speed with which he maneuvered Alexandra despite the physical limitation tells me that he’s used to it,” Spencer speculated, “If it was a new injury he wouldn’t know yet how best to compensate for it.”

“That makes sense,” she replied, “We profiled that he could’ve been placed with an abusive adoptive family.”

“Garcia,” Hotch called.”

“Sir?”

“How’s your list coming?”

“It’s good and ready for more parameters.”

“Narrow the list down to white males who lived in homes where there were multiple hospital visits,” Hotch instructed.

“Good, give me more.”

“Narrow it down to families who own black trucks,” Morgan supplied.

“Eliminate anyone who moved here from somewhere else,” Spencer added, “With his comfort zone he has to have lived here his whole life.”

“Okay, I’ve got twelve possible names,” she happily exclaimed.

“And limit it to those who have suffered leg injuries,” Hotch finished.

“One name!” she cheered, “I give you 27 year old Joseph Dunlap of Spring Valley, Las Vegas. He was willingly surrendered by his mother at 9 months of age. He was placed with the Dunlaps two weeks later. Everything was going until 1991 when his adoptive mother, June, was killed in a car accident. After that, his adoptive father, Todd, turned to alcohol. I can tell that from his three DUIs. I see multiple ER visits dated after 1991 for everything from bruised ribs to a spiral arm fracture. Joseph’s been in and out of jail ever since for assault, domestic battery, and drug possession. He got shot in his left hip during a shootout with a rival gang eight years ago. He currently has a job at a local computer hardware store owned by his old cellmate, George Brawn.”

“Not associated in any way with the adoption world?”

“Not that I can see, but I have to admit, it doesn’t take a lot of effort to hack into some of those databases. Even someone with limited hacking knowledge might be able to pull it off.”

“Anything major happen about a month ago?”

“Hold for one minute,” she replied, “Yes, his birth mother died in an apparent suicide.”

“He must’ve known who she was. If he was too afraid to contact her before that, any answers he had about why she gave him up died with her,” Reid spoke up.

“Okay, I’ve sent you his work and home addresses. Be safe!”


	6. Fantasies

Reid couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief as he listened to Penelope read off Joseph Dunlap’s file. He could rest in peace knowing that this was most likely their guy and that Garcia wouldn’t need to keep digging into adoption records. It meant his secret was safe once again. He could still feel Derek’s eyes on him as they made their way to Dunlap’s apartment, but he knew there was no reason for him to worry anymore. This case would be over soon and everything could go back to normal.

Rossi pulled up and stopped the car in front of his apartment building and they all quickly climbed out. Reid pulled his revolver from the holster and readied his gun. Morgan went in front with Rossi bringing up the rear as they approached his apartment door.

Morgan forcefully banged on the door, “Joseph Dunlap, FBI!”

A crash was heard from inside and Morgan immediately jumped into action. He stepped back and kicked the door open, busting it half off its hinges. Reid followed him into the apartment, gun pointed out in front of him. Morgan went right, so he went left. He made his way through the kitchen before exiting into the dining area where he watched as the unsub hoisted himself out a window and onto the fire escape.

“He’s going out the fire escape!” he called out to his teammates before making the snap decision to follow him himself without waiting for Morgan.

The window was fairly large, so it didn’t take a lot of athletic ability to get out onto the platform. He immediately started making his way after the suspect.

“Stop!” he called after him, despite knowing the man had no intention of listening to him.

Reid got to the bottom of the fire escape just as Joseph was attempting to scale a chain link fence at the end of the alley.

“Put your hands in the air!” he commanded, hearing the telltale signs of Morgan making his way down after them.

“Stop right there or I will shoot you,” he warned him, pulling the hammer back on his revolver just to prove his point.

He watched the fight leave Dunlap’s body as he turned around and put his hands up. Reid immediately moved in and cuffed him. Just as he was finishing, Morgan finished making his way down the fire escape.

“Nice moves, kid,” he complimented him, “Didn’t think you could move like that.”

“It’s just a bunch of stairs, Morgan. Surely you think better of me than that?”

Morgan chuckled, “fair enough.”

“When you two are done flirting,” Joseph sneered at them, his hate filled glare fixed firmly on Reid, “get me a lawyer.”

They ignored him as they led him around the corner to their car, with Reid listing off his rights on the way. The man never even asked why he was being arrested. He just kept his head down and let the two agents walk him to the car.

“Let’s get this guy back to the station,” Rossi said coming out of the apartment building, “I can’t wait to nail his ass to the wall.”

“Agreed,” Spencer glared at the man in the car, “Let’s go.”

* * *

After they handed Dunlap over to the local detectives, they all gathered in the conference room.

“Good work, everyone,” Hotch complimented them, “Unfortunately, he lawyered up immediately, so we have to wait before we can speak with him. Because of this, I think it would be a good idea to head to the hotel and get some rest. We’ll question him in the morning.”

Reid glanced over at the clock and saw that it was now 9 pm, almost 19 hours since he’d gotten the call to come in. None of them protested Hotch’s decision and all climbed into the SUVs and drove to the hotel. They got their keys from the front desk and as per usual, the pairing were Hotch and Rossi, JJ and Prenstiss, and Morgan and Reid.

Now that the case was essentially over, Reid didn’t mind being in such close quarters with Morgan anymore. In fact, one of his favorite guilty pleasures was to watch the older man walk around without a shirt on before he goes to sleep. He’d asked Morgan why he never wore a shirt to bed a couple years ago. He’d replied that he hasn’t worn a shirt to bed since he was a teen so now it just felt wrong.

Morgan opened the door for him and let him in first. Without much thought, he threw his bag onto the bed farthest from the door. Morgan had this thing where no matter who he roomed with, he wanted to be closest to the door. Reid guessed it had something to do with his intense need to protect everyone he loves from harm, but they never talked about it, he just accepted it.

“Do you want to shower first?” Morgan asked him.

“No, you go ahead,” Spencer told him.

He just wanted to lay down for a minute and let the stress of the day fade away. He’d been so tense from all the reminders of the son he gave up that he hadn’t realized how tired he was until Hotch had mentioned it. He let himself fall backwards onto the bed, gazing distantly up at the ceiling. Rossi almost certainly knew now that he’d been at least sexually assaulted in the past. He doubted that he’d managed to figure out he’d gotten pregnant from it though.

He laid there listening to the shower running in the bathroom and couldn’t help but picture Derek naked and soaking wet. He groaned involuntarily at the mental image and could feel himself start to become aroused by it. After such a stressful case, he deserved a little fantasy. So he let his hand wander down his flat chest to the top of his pants. He made quick work of untucking his shirt and felt his legs widen slightly as his front hole started to get wet.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to fully indulge in his fantasy until it was his turn to shower, but he was content to let himself get excited as he waited for Morgan to be done in the shower. Thankfully the man has always been a rather fast shower taker, so it was less than ten minutes later when he stepped out. Reid let his eyes wander slightly to the older agent’s chest which still had a few drops of water on it. With that image stored in his brain, he pulled himself up and off the bed, grabbed his go bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

He stripped himself in record time and turned the water back on. When it was just the right temperature, he stepped inside and let the fantasy take over completely. As he reached between his legs and rubbed his cock, he let himself imagine that it was Morgan’s fingers teasing him. Morgan’s fingers dipping between his folds, reaching towards his most intimate area.

He let out a soft gasp as his fingers breached his opening, easily slipping deep inside him. His first finger was quickly joined by another. He curled his fingers, still imagining they were Morgan’s not his, and rubbed against his g-spot. He couldn’t help the breathy little moans he let slip out so he covered his mouth with his free hand. He thrust his fingers in and out and whined against the inside of his hand.

He could feel himself getting close, but it wasn’t enough. He let go of his mouth and dropped the hand down to his cock. He took it between his thumb and index finger and rubbed. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagined Derek doing this to him. His fingers would be thicker and so much better than his own. He’d have his head thrown back, resting on Derek’s strong shoulder as he cried out in bliss. He imagined the muscular agent whispering his nickname, “pretty boy,” in his ear and the thought sent him over the edge.

“Der-Derek,” he gasped as he came, his hips and legs shuddering beneath him.

He let himself collapse back against the cold shower wall to catch his breath. It felt so good to release that tension from his body. So much so that he could feel himself beginning to fall asleep. He rushed to wash himself and his hair before stepping out of the shower. He threw on his favorite sweatpants and Doctor Who t-shirt and left the bathroom.

* * *

Derek didn’t pay much attention to Spencer as he rushed into the bathroom. He just assumed the kid was tired and wanted to get to bed as fast as possible. When the shower ran longer than its usual five minutes, he got a little worried. The kid had been off all day, so the worry he felt in the pit of his stomach wasn’t unfounded.

He walked up to the bathroom door and put his head almost up against it, listening for a sign that he was okay. His eyes widened in shock as he heard a moan drift out over the sound of the water. Spencer was masturbating in the shower right now!

Derek stifled a groan of his own as he felt himself start to grow hard. He knew he should walk away. It was wrong to impede on such a private moment, but he just couldn’t get his feet to move. Instead he continued to listen to Spencer’s soft gasps and moans of pleasure. It wasn’t long before Derek’s hand was slipping down into his boxers and taking himself into his hand. Using his precum to slick the way, he began to jerk himself off. He closed his eyes and listened intently to Spencer’s noises of pleasure, adding more than enough fuel to the fire.

He heard Spencer let out a soft, high pitched whine, signalling he was close. Derek bit his lips and clapped a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He could feel his balls beginning to draw up close to his body and the telltale coiling of pressure in his abdomen told him he was close, too. Not wanting to soil his fresh boxers, he finally pulled himself out from his pants. He ran his thumb around the sensitive head and let out an involuntary grunt of pleasure into his hand.

“Der-Derek,” he heard Spencer gasp and then let out a strangled groan as he came.

Derek’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his name on Spencer's lips as he came. Derek closed his eyes again and sped his hand up even more, cuming all over his fist. He took a few deep breaths as his blissed out brain attempted to process what had just happened.

He had just masturbated to the sound of Spencer getting himself off. And Spencer, while climaxing, had called out his name. This left him in a little bit of a predicament. He was now certain Spencer was attracted to him at least sexually, but he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He couldn’t tell Spencer he knew they both liked each other because he’d overheard him masturbating in the shower and gotten off to it. That was just weird.

The cutting off of the water had him coming back to reality. He did not want to get caught by Spencer leaning next to the bathroom door with his dick hanging out of his pants and his hand covered in drying cum. He realized there weren’t any tissues, so he grabbed his shirt from yesterday and used it to clean himself up. He quickly tucked himself away and stuffed the soiled shirt into the side pocket of his go bag. He was still standing over it when Spencer exited the bathroom.

“I’m surprised,” the kid said looking over at him and yawning, “I would’ve thought you’d be asleep already.”

Morgan glanced down at his bag and saw his toothbrush and toothpaste laying on top.

“Forgot to brush my teeth, pretty boy,” he lied, but he didn’t miss the way his use of the nickname had a light blush spreading across Reid’s face.

Reid nodded in understanding as he made his way past Morgan to his own bed. He threw his bag down next to the bed and crawled into it.

“Night, Derek,” Spencer mumbled sleepily against his pillow.

Morgan chuckled at how innocent the kid sounded, especially after what had just happened.

“Good night,” he replied and stepped into the bathroom to pretend to brush his teeth.

* * *

Reid was woken up by a loud knocking on his and Morgan’s hotel room door. He glanced at the clock to see it read 5 am. They weren’t due back at the station to start questioning Dunlap until 7 am.

Reid groaned in annoyance, “Morgan, go see who that is and what they want.”

He waited for Morgan’s usual retort of “Go see who it is for yourself, pretty boy,” but it never came. Instead, he watched through the slightly cracked eyes as Morgan dragged himself out of bed to go answer the door. When he opened the door, the mystery person revealed themselves to be Hotch, already dressed in his suit.

Immediately on high alert, Spencer sat up in his bed. Hotch would never wake them up early unless it was an emergency.

“We got the wrong guy,” his boss informed them solemnly, “Another pregnant woman was murdered last night.”

And just like that, Reid’s good mood shattered.


	7. The Unraveling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/referenced past rape/non-con

Reid felt like he was in a daze as he, once again, found himself standing in front of a board with the photos of dead pregnant women splayed out everywhere. The cramp in his stomach was back in full force, the relaxation from his shower time indulgence completely gone.

“How the hell is Joseph Dunlap not the right guy?” Morgan burst out in frustration, probably resisting the urge to punch the nearest wall.

“I know, he looked perfect for it to me too,” Hotch replied, in a much calmer tone, “But the attack last night proved us wrong.”

“What exactly happened?” Reid asked, taking a long sip of what was already his second crappy precinct coffee.

“Last night at 2 am, seventeen year old Reese Pearl, who was eight months pregnant, was attacked in her home last night. The attacker beat her brutally and cut the baby out of her, but this time he left the baby on the floor at the crime scene. A neighbor saw that a window on the front of her house was smashed around 4 am as he was leaving for work and called 911,” Hotch explained.

“And it couldn’t have been Dunlap because he was here the whole night,” Prentiss groaned.

“Garica has already confirmed that she was giving the baby up for adoption,” Hotch continued, “According to a police report, Reese was raped outside her job at a grocery store eight months ago. The police ended up being able to use the baby’s DNA to find and convict her rapist, Shawn Herbert. He’s currently in prison.”

“Is it possible Dunlap had a partner?” JJ asked, “This was way less organized than the first three. He didn’t abduct her, didn’t use a ruse either.”

“It’s possible, but unlikely. The chances of two men sharing such a specific fantasy involving pregnant women is astronomical as most people won’t cross that line,” Reid supplied, “Besides, folie a deux can only happen when the two people involved are extremely close. Whether by choice or not, this unsub and Dunlap are both loners. The unsub also needs time alone with the victims in order to play out his fantasy.”

“Okay,” Morgan chimed in, “But he’s no longer playing out that fantasy. He both attacked and killed her in her home. No extended holding period, no dumping the body next to an adoption agency. The only consistent element is the perimortem removal of the child and the beating. Could this be a copycat?”

“I think we need some more answers,” Hotch stepped in, stopping their theorizing, “We need to talk to Dunlap to see if he is involved in any way. While Rossi and Morgan do that, Reid, JJ, I want you two to walk back through this profile and figure out what we might be missing. Prentiss and I will head to the ME’s office to look over Alexandra and Reese’s autopsy reports.”

Having received their orders, the team broke off into their designated pairs and got to work. JJ walked over to Reid where he was sitting criss cross on the table. He knew he looked like a kid whenever he did it, but it was comfortable. It allowed him to have the file open on his lap while he stared at their crime boards.

“So what do we know for certain?” she prompted him, leaning back against the table.

“We know he’s a white male for sure thanks to the security tapes. He’s not physically imposing and drives a black truck. The adoption connection tells us he’s most likely attacking these women for considering giving their babies up, so he probably resents his birth mother for giving him up. We know from the video that his left leg has been injured before, possibly by an abusive parent which only fuels his hatred for his birth mother,” he rattled off without really thinking about it.

Those were the parts of the profile they were sure were right. The question is, why did they lead them to seemingly the wrong guy.

JJ sighed deeply as she looked at the pictures on the board, “And it’s all that stuff that led us to Dunlap. He was the only one who matched all of our parameters.”

“So which one is wrong?” he mused, his hand curling into a loose fist as he pressed it against his mouth.

“His age,” JJ gasped suddenly and Spencer felt his blood run cold.

“Age is the hardest variable to predict. What if our unsub is way younger than we originally thought?” she exclaimed, standing to turn and look at Spencer.

He swallowed thickly while trying his best to appear nonchalant, “Yeah, that’s a good possibility.”

“I’ll call Garcia and tell her to start going through adoption records for men 16 to 25.”

He nodded along with her statement, but internally he was having a panic attack. Now that the age 18 was included in Garcia’s search, there was a definite possibility that she could stumble across his son’s file.

“Should we keep the rest of the parameters the same?” she asked him to confirm.

Spencer nodded, “Yeah. Multiple hospital visits, local, black truck, and left leg injuries.”

He watched her walk away to a quieter part of the precinct to make the call and Spencer knew he should go talk to Hotch about their decision, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Fear and dread were once again coiling in his gut, but this time it was so much more intense. He was so distracted that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt someone place their hand down on his shoulder. His head whipped around to see Morgan staring at him in shock.

“Whoa, pretty boy,” he said quickly pulling his hand back, “Are you okay?”

Reid sighed, “Sorry. I just really thought we were done with this case. I hate that we had to add another pregnant woman’s face to our crime board this morning.”

Morgan’s body language relaxed a bit with Reid’s explanation, “Me too, kid. You and JJ come up with anything?”

He nodded, “She made the point that age is the hardest variable to predict so she’s asking Garcia to comb through adoption records for white males 16 to 25 that match all of our parameters.”

“Good thinking,” Morgan agreed sitting down in the chair next to Reid.

“You and Hotch get anything from Dunlap?”

The older agent shook his head, “The man knows nothing. He’s a scumbag, but not a serial killer. It’s true he hates his birth mom, but he doesn’t care enough to go after these women. He didn’t even know his birth mother was dead.”

“I can’t believe we got it wrong,” Reid complained as he placed his head on his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I know. What are the chances that we would find someone with all our unsub requirements, just for him to not turn out to be the unsub?”

“I could give you and answer, but I feel like that was a rhetorical question.”

Morgan chuckled which made Reid smile lightly. What happened next though, confused him. Morgan reached over and placed his hand on Reids knee, giving it a light squeeze before taking it back. He didn’t know how to react to the touch since he’d never really been touched like that by Morgan before. He eyed the man skeptically as he took a sip of his coffee. He was pretending like it was totally normal for him to touch his leg like that. Reid made a mental note to ask him about it later when they weren’t at work.

* * *

It was about an hour later when Rossi and Prentiss returned from the ME’s office.

“Well I can definitely confirm that our unsub is getting sloppier the angrier he gets,” Rossi said as he took a seat at the head of the table, “His last kill showed a level of disorganization that we have not seen from this unsub in any of his other murders.”

“What about Alexandra?” JJ inquired, “She died before she was supposed to.”

Prentiss answered her, “Dr. Montara concluded that Alexandra died from a heart attack after being shocked by the unsub. Her chest showed signs of bruising consistent with CPR, but when that failed to revive her, the unsub got angry and stabbed her 32 times. Alexandra’s medical charts confirmed that she had a heart arrhythmia, but the ME also concluded that the shocks she suffered were much worse than his other victims.”

“So she was particularly susceptible to complications from the torture,” Reid realized, “The unsub clearly must not have known about it before he took her. Which means that while he somehow knows that they’re thinking about putting their baby up for adoption, he doesn’t have access to their medical records.”

“That’s what Prentiss and I concluded,” Rossi continued, “With the level of organization and preplanning this unsub normally exhibits, if he’d had access to her medical file he would’ve known she was a bad candidate for his ritual. When we looked at Reese, the devolution is even clearer. He no longer cares about the babies, he just wants to punish the mothers.”

“He’s getting closer to the real target of his rage,” Morgan realized, “Which means he could be moving towards his end game.”

“What is his end game?” JJ asked them.

“If she’s still alive, he could be looking to kill his birth mom,” Reid theorized, “She’s the ultimate target of his rage because, to him, she abandoned him to the abuse he suffered from his adoptive parents. She’s the person all these women have been surrogates for.”

“Which means we need to find her and fast,” Hotch concluded just as his phone started ringing.

“Hotchner,” he said into the receiver, “When? You’re sure it’s our guy? Okay, thank you.”

Morgan stood up, ready to go wherever he was needed, “What happened?”

“A woman, Lauren Baker, was attacked leaving an adoption center a few minutes ago. A witness from inside the agency said she could hear the man yelling at her ‘How could you do that to your baby?’ as he disemboweled her and then stabbed her multiple times. She was declared dead at the scene.”

“The baby?” JJ looked at Hotch for the answer.

“That’s just it,” he replied, “She wasn’t pregnant. She went into labor early and gave birth a week ago. She was just there to finish signing the paperwork forfeiting her rights to the child.”

“He’s devolving rapidly,” Reid said, climbing down from his spot on the table and moving back over to the map, “Where’s the adoption agency located?”

“Corner of West Oakey boulevard and Marcus drive.”

“Did the witness get enough for a sketch?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, she’s with a sketch artist now. We also looked at the footage and confirmed it’s our guy. Can’t see his face, but he looks just like the guy from the medical center’s tape from yesterday.”

“So what can we do?” Morgan wanted to know.

All of this was good, but it was going to be torture to just sit here and wait.

“There’s nothing we can really do at the moment,” Hotch admitted, “The police have doubled their patrols and are on high alert. We’re waiting on Penelope to finish scrubbing through adoption records and then we can run the sketch through vicap and see if we get a hit. Garcia will call us when she has something.”

Morgan huffed in frustration, but nodded. And with that, they all settled in to wait for a call from their beloved tech genie.

* * *

It was a long, torturous hour before the phone rang and Penelope greeted them.

“Thank god,” Morgan called through the phone to her, “Give me something to do, mama.”

“Your wish is my command, sweet cheeks,” she teased him right back.

Hotch cut their banter off quickly, “Got something for us?”

“Yes, I dove back into the adoption records of boy genius’ home state and came up with seven possibilities for our unsub. That number, however, dropped to one after I received the sketch from our sole eyewitness.”

“Who is it?” Reid asked, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his third cup of coffee.

“I present to you, Paul Anderson. He is 18 years old, born and raised in Las Vegas. There are multiple hospital records for him to treat suspicious burns, bruised ribs, and broken bones. Child protective services were called multiple times, but each time the injuries were explained away or labeled as accidents. When he was twelve, his father was driving them home, but he was drunk and they got into a really bad accident. Paul’s entire lower left leg was effectively crushed. It took him years of physical therapy to be able to use it again.”

“Anything on the adoptive mother?” Prentiss asked.

“Yeah, she died from blunt force trauma when she fell down the basement stairs of their house when Paul was only nine. It was investigated by the local police department, but ruled an accident. The hospital visits started less than a month later.”

“The mother most likely shielded Paul from his father’s rage until she died. Then, when she was no longer there to stop her husband, the abuse was transferred to the son,” Hotch guessed, “Does he work in the adoption system?”

“I have employment records for Premier Adoption Agency, but it looks like he was fired a month ago for inappropriate behavior. Just a couple days after his 18th birthday.”

“Inappropriate behavior?” Hotch inquired.

“Yes, apparently he would become hostile while talking on the phone with customers and would lash out at or berate women who came in to put their kids up for adoption. All of this started about a week before his birthday, but before that he was a model employee.”

“Something must have happened around that time,” Rossi pointed out, “Question is, what was it?”

“We profiled his birth mother as his ultimate target. Can you find out who she is and if she lives nearby?” Hotch asked.

“Right, of course. Just give me one second to pull it up,” Garcia mumbled half to herself as she typed away.

Morgan found himself praying that this woman lived far away from Las Vegas.

“Her name is... oh my god,” Garcia’s tone morphed into one of complete and utter shock, “this can’t be right.”

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” Morgan demanded as a bad feeling started to bubble up in his gut.

“Sylvia Reid, her name is... was Sylvia Diana Reid,” she blurted out.

Everyone gasped in shock as Spencer’s deadname was revealed to be the name of their unsub’s mother. It took a second, but Morgan’s brian finally caught up with what that meant. Reid has a child--an 18 year old son to be exact--and that child is their unsub.

The sound of something shattering had Morgan, and everyone else, whipping around to stare at Spencer. The kid was ghostly pale and shaking. The coffee cup he’d been holding lay broken on the ground, a puddle of coffee at his feet. His eyes were distant as his head slowly turned to face Morgan.

“Derek,” Spencer looked at him, his voice no louder than a whisper, “It’s too much.”

Morgan watched in horror as his friend’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed.


	8. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rape/non-con
> 
> It isn’t just glossed over like in previous chapters, but it’s not intensely graphic either.

January 1996; Spencer Reid - 15 years old

It’s the first day of his second year at Caltech and Spencer couldn’t wait for class to start. He kept fidgeting in his seat at the front of the classroom as he waited. It wasn’t long before the teacher of the course, Dr. Jared Edwards, entered the room. The class quieted down as they waited for him to speak.

“Welcome to Advanced Experimental Methods in Bioorganic Chemistry,” he greeted them, stepping up to the podium, “I do hope you’re all ready to be challenged. My past student will tell you, this is not an easy course.”

Spencer listened with rapt attention as he walked them through what they were going to be learning this semester. The only thing that he didn’t like was the mention of a group project. He’s never liked having to work in a group. His presence was usually first viewed as a burden on whichever group he was assigned and then viewed with annoyance or even contempt when he proved smarter than them.

Spencer noticed that the teacher kept looking in his direction as he spoke, but he was used to that kind of attention. It was unusual for professors to see students his age in such advanced courses. He’d even had a professor come up to him after class once and ask if he was sure he could handle it. He’d responded by quoting the first chapter of the required textbook to her. She never questioned his intelligence again.

“Sylvia Reid?” Dr. Edwards called out, his eyes scanning his students.

Spencer winced involuntarily as his deadname was read during roll call, but raised his hand to confirm his attendance. While he had transitioned in his personal life when he turned 14, he didn’t have enough money to make it legal yet. Physically, he kept his hair short and wore his binder only when he was feeling particularly dysphoric. He could barely afford the one binder he did have, so he didn’t want to wear it out by using it everyday. He was lucky, however, that his breasts weren’t very big to begin with. A tight sports bra was enough to make him feel semi okay most days.

The teacher smiled at him from behind the podium and, not wanting to be rude, Spencer smiled back at him. The brief interaction didn’t phase him at all, believing the teacher was just getting used to a 15 year old’s presence in his classroom.

The semester passed without incident for the first couple weeks. He sent a letter to his mother every day and would often use what little money he had to call her. Sometimes she wouldn’t recognize his voice and accuse him of spying on her, but on those days he would just hang up and call back later. There was no point in wasting his money at the phone booth if his mother wasn’t lucid enough to know who he was.

At school, he was growing closer and closer to Dr. Edwards. He would invite him back to his office after class to discuss scientific theories too advanced for the other students. The things they theorized about were things not normally introduced until a student’s senior year. Edwards explained that he wanted to do everything he could to make sure Spencer felt like he was still learning new things.

He never came out as transgender to Edwards, afraid of his reaction. So instead, he put up with constantly being called Sylvia and referred to as a she. His mentor/mentee relationship with Edwards was too important for him to risk losing.

“Tell me Sylvia,” Edwards asked one day as they sat together in his office, “What do you like most about being in college at such a young age?”

“I like that I’m able to learn at such an accelerated pace,” Spencer replied, “I always felt trapped in high school. The classes moved so slow. Here everything moves much faster and it helps keep my mind sharp.”

“Not being able to meet and speak with peers who love the same things as you?”

Spencer hung his head slightly, “Most of them--while they don’t directly bully me like my high school peers did--don’t want anything to do with me. They’re afraid I’ll show them up and humiliate them.”

“Well you can’t help how brilliant you are,” Edwards said as he scooted closer on the couch and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Not a big fan of being touched, Spencer’s first reaction was to tell him to remove his hand, but at the same time, if this was how people tried to comfort each other, Edwards might view it as a rejection. Not wanting to lose the closest thing he’s had to a father figure since he was ten, he didn’t say anything.

The hand, however, did not stay in the same place. Spencer sat up straight as a board when the hand slipped down off his shoulder and settled onto the opposite side of his back, effectively hugging him to Edwards. He tried to subtly shift away from him, but Edwards shushed him.

“It’s alright Sylvia,” he said, “It’s normal that touch might make you a little uncomfortable since you’re not used to this kind of attention.”

Unable to argue the point, Spencer nodded his understanding.

“See,” Edwards continued, “It’s alright. I just want you to feel safe.”

Trusting him, Spencer forced himself to relax as much as he could into the touch. He didn’t want to disappoint Edwards. His professor’s approval meant everything to him. This is how their relationship stayed for a couple more weeks and Spencer got more and more used to the way Edwards would touch him. Sometimes he’d place a hand on his thin knee or on the side of his neck.

But on January 29th, 1996, everything changed.

* * *

Spencer made his way to Edward’s office, excited to talk to him about the latest research done on quantum mechanics in Europe. The door stood ajar so he pushed it open and closed it behind him, words already spilling out of his lips at lightning speed. He took off his light Caltech sweatshirt and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Edwards was already sitting on the couch in his usual spot, so Spencer joined him thinking nothing of it.

It was less than a minute before Edwards had his hands on him. This time while one hand was resting on his knee, the other was gripping the small of his back. Spencer let one of his hands fall and cover the much larger hand on his knee. 

It was just as he was branching off into string theory, that the hand on his knee was suddenly on the inside of his thigh. This, he knew, was not a fatherly touch.

“Jared,” he asked looking down at where the hand was on his thigh, “What are you doing?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Sylvia,” Edwards chuckled, “You want this.”

Realization dawned on him in that moment and he wondered how he could’ve been so stupid. This man didn’t truly care about him, at least, not in the way he’d thought he did. Scared, Spencer gently shoved the invading hand away from him.

“I think I should go,” he started, his voice shaking slightly, “I have a lot of homework-”

Before he knew it, Edwards’ hand was back on his thigh, but this time his grip was much stronger.

“You spend all these weeks teasing me and now that I think we’re ready to move to the next stage, you decide to bail on me?” he hissed, the hand on his back tightening painfully.

Spencer attempted to get away from his professor by moving to stand, but a quick tug on the back of his slacks had him falling back down. Before his mind could process what was happening, his teacher’s hand appeared around his throat.

“I have wanted you since I first laid eyes on you in my classroom,” he growled menacingly into Spencer’s ear, “And I swear to god, I am going to have you.”

The hand on his throat tightened enough to constrict his airway and Spencer panicked when he couldn’t get any air. His hands shot up to claw at the hand around his throat, but his professor was too strong for him. By the grip on his neck and thigh, Spencer was pulled sideways until his back was pressed up his professor’s chest. His professor loosed his grip just enough so Spencer could finally take a breath and he gasped for air.

‘You need to understand something, sweetheart,” Edwards threatened him, “If you try to run, I’ll kill you. You take what I give you like a good little girl and I might just let you live. Do you understand me?”

“Yes!” Spencer choked out, just barely getting enough air.

“As for screaming,” he continued, “You can do that all you want. Nobody will hear you. It’s 7 pm on a Friday, everyone’s already gone home for the weekend. I checked.”

With that knowledge, any hope of being saved vanished from Spencer’s mind. He was going to be raped by a man he trusted right here, in his office, in the middle of Caltech university and nobody was going to know. He closed his eyes as his professor leaned in and smelled his hair.

“You smell so good,” he groaned.

Using the grip still on his neck and his free hand, the man maneuvered Spencer until he was sitting on his lap. He could feel his professor’s erection pressing up against his ass and he couldn’t help the tear that rolled down his cheek. It was at this moment, he resolved not to let this happen without a fight. But he knew doing anything while that strong hand was wrapped around his neck was a bad idea. So, he waited, letting his professor explore his body until the opportune moment to make his escape arose.

Edwards ran his free hand down Spencer’s body, stopping at his chest to cup his breasts.

“Why do you hide these?” he whispered against his ear, causing him to shudder in disgust, “They’re so pretty. I can’t wait to watch them bounce as I take you.”

Another tear rolled down his cheek as he listened to Edwards talk about his body like it belonged to him. The older man’s hand continued its journey down his body, stopping at his belt buckle. Spencer grabbed at the man’s arm, desperately trying to pull it off course, but the fingers around his throat constricted once again cutting off his air supply. He got the message and quickly let go of Edwards’ arm.

The man let out a sinister chuckle before deftly undoing Spencer’s belt. He whimpered and tried to move his hips out of the way, but a quick squeeze to his throat had him stopping. He squeezed his eyes shut as the hand dipped into his pants, under his boxers, and reached towards his most intimate area. He felt Edwards' fingers begin to rub circles into his flesh, just above his slit.

Finally having enough air back in his lungs, he pleaded with the older man, “Please don’t do this. Stop, I’m begging you. I won’t tell anyone.”

Edwards ignored him and Spencer cried out as the unwanted fingers slipped lower, dipping between his folds and moving towards his front hole. Knowing that trying to push the arm away would just get him choked, he instead moved them to grip his thigh and at the soft material of the couch. He let out a sob as one of Edwards’ fingers pressed against his virgin hole and then pushed inside. 

“Stop!” he cried out, tears running freely down his face.

“Shut up,” Edwards snapped, “You might even enjoy this if you just relax.”

Tears streamed down his face as the finger inside him began to move. He’s never even done this to himself before. So to have his first time taken from this like him, to be so utterly violated, broke something deep inside of him causing shame to stir in the pit of his stomach. The feeling only increased as he realized he was getting wet, very wet.

“See Sylvia,” his professor said in his ear, “Your body likes it, your body wants it. Can’t you feel it?”

“It’s a biological response to having my genitals stimulated,” he couldn’t stop himself from correcting the man, “It’s not real arousal.”

Edwards growled in anger, forcefully removing his finger from Spencer’s front hole, he forced him to stand. He took his hand away from Spencer’s throat to do it and Spencer knew this was his chance. He slammed his fist into Edwards’ nose and made a break for the door. His hand found the door knob and twisted, but the door didn’t open. He turned the lock on the door handle, but the door still didn’t open. It was with horror that he realized that the deadbolt must’ve been locked before he’d ever set foot in the room and when he closed the door, he’d locked himself in.

Arms wrapped around his torso and he yelled out pleas to be let go as he was pulled away from the door.

“You little bitch!” Edwards howled, throwing him against his desk.

Spencer shouted in pain as his chest collided with the hard edge of the desk. He reached for the lamp on Edwards desk to defend himself with, but a hand on his upper arm stopped him. He cried out again as his arms were forced behind his back and restrained, most likely with Edwards’ tie. Realizing he had no viable options for escape, Spencer laid his head down on the desk and cried.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he whispered as tears poured down his face.

Edwards leaned over him and licked the shell of his ear before replying, “You’re just so damn perfect, so innocent. Most of the girls on this campus are sluts, but not you. You are pure and untouched and I couldn’t resist wanting to ruin you.”

Spencer choked out a sob as Edwards used a strong grip on his short hair to pull him up from where he knelt on the floor. He then turned him around and pushed him back onto the desk so that he was looking up at his attacker. Edwards reached into his pocket and produced a knife causing Spencer to panic even more. He immediately leaned forward and pressed the knife against his throat.

“Don’t squirm or I might accidentally cut you,” Edwards warned him.

Not wanting to endure any more pain than necessary, Spencer complied. He watched as his shirt was cut right up the middle of the front. Edwards pulled the fabric back so he could see his chest and Spencer closed his eyes. Hands roamed his chest as he tried to remove himself from the situation mentally.

It was working too. He pictured himself with his mom at a playground when he was younger. She was pushing him on the swings and he was smiling. The sun was warm against his skin and he could hear other children around him laughing as they played.

A sharp slap across his face brought him back to reality.

“Stay with me, Sylvia,” Edwards hissed, “You do that again and I’ll have to punish you.”

Taking stock of his body, he realized with horror that his bra had also been cut and his pants were completely gone. Mustering up all the strength he had left in him, Spencer glared at the man through his tears. He wanted the man who was about to rape him to know how much hatred he had for him. The glare, however, only made the man smile.

“If you think that look’s going to stop me, maybe you’re not as smart as your IQ would suggest.”

He grabbed Spencer and flipped him over so that he was bent forward over the desk, his ass on display for his attacker. He felt the flat cold metal of the knife skim across his back as a silent reminder to behave. Just wanting it over with at this point, he let his head fall forward onto the desk.

“Good girl,” Edwards cooed, “Just rest and let me take care of you.”

Having accepted his fate, his face was now void of emotion except for the constant tears making their way across his face. He stopped begging because he knew it was pointless. This man had no intention of stopping, so now he just wanted it over with as fast as possible. And the best way to accomplish that was to submit to him completely.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his boxers were pulled down his legs to pool around his ankles. He heard the sound of a zipper behind him and he knew what was coming next. He might be a virgin, but he’d read enough books to know about everything that was going on. He felt the slippery tip of what he assumed was his professor’s penis rub against his folds. He braced himself and breathed out slowly, his entire body quaking in fear.

It wasn’t long before Edwards pushed forward and Spencer screamed.

* * *

Spencer knew he’d been naive when he believed the assault in Edwards office would be a one time thing. His avoidance of the professor had worked for about a week before he received a letter in the mail. Inside were pictures, nude pictures of him from when he’d passed out after the assault. Various angles and close ups that he’d never wanted to see and a lot of them had his face in them. Attached was a letter threatening to post the pictures all across campus if he didn’t comply with Edwards’ every command.

He’d broken down and cried when he realized that Edwards had him. If these pictures ever got out, it would be a disaster. He did not want to go through school or start his career with everyone knowing what he looks like passed out nude on a desk with semen dripping down his thighs.

Edwards used the pictures as blackmail to get him to submit to him time and time again. He’d even used them to get him to enroll in more courses he taught in the Spring and Fall semesters so them spending time together wasn’t suspicious. As for sex, sometimes he would call and tell him to meet him in his office. Sometimes he would arrange a study group at his house and make sure Spencer was the last to leave. And on one more horrible occasion, he’d grabbed him in the middle of the hallway, pushed him into a storage closet, and taken him right there in amongst the cleaning supplies.

The worst assaults, however, were always at Edwards house after the study groups. There, no matter the time of day or night, his professor could do anything he wanted with him and nobody would hear him. There wasn’t a surface in that house that didn’t flood Spencer's mind with horrible memories.

He really hated when Edwards would take him up to his study and force him to sit still, his penis deep inside his front hole, as he worked. One time he even answered the phone and talked to another professor like he wasn’t currently balls deep in his extremely underage student.

He’d tried to get it to stop so many times, but the longer the abuse continued, the more pictures and even videos Edwards amassed. When Spencer would pass out from extreme physical exhaustion, he would take more and more pictures. Without Spencer knowing, Edwards had even installed a camera in his office so that every time he took Spencer there he could videotape it. Spencer only found out when his professor showed the tapes to him to keep him from saying anything.

The abuse only stopped when the Spring semester ended and he was able to return home to Las Vegas for the summer. Edwards hadn’t been happy about it, but he knew it would look suspicious if Spencer kept spending so much time with him when he wasn’t taking his class. The last couple weeks of class he’d been really sick. He’d vomit without warning, but there were certain smells that made it worse. He practically became a vegetarian because the smell of cooking meat caused him to keel over and retch.

Realistically, he’d known what it was the second he recognized the symptoms. Edwards had never been very good at remembering to wear a condom and Spencer couldn’t afford to buy Plan B or go on birth control. But, out of fear of being recognized, he waited until he returned to Las Vegas to take a test. He’d spent almost half an hour crying on his bathroom floor when he saw the little pink plus sign on the stick.

His mother had heard him and come in to ask him what was wrong. Not knowing what else to do, he showed her the pregnancy test. She hadn’t yelled at him or gotten angry. Instead, she’d pulled him close and held him.

“Who’s the father?” she asked calmly, rubbing tiny comforting circles into his back.

“Another student,” he lied, “and he wants nothing to do with me.”

His mother had just nodded and replied, “Well even if that bastard won’t be here for you. I promise I will be.”

* * *

At 12 weeks, just as his baby bump was starting to show, he went to the nearby thrift store and bought as many loosely fitting shirts and hoodies as he could afford.

At 16 weeks, he started looking into various adoption agencies. He knew he couldn’t afford to raise this baby. His mother’s disability checks barely covered just what he and his mom needed to survive. Not to mention the fact that he was still a child himself and going to school full time. He would have to quit and get a real job and that’s not what he wanted out of life.

At 20 weeks, he took the long mirror off the wall of his room and placed it in their garage so every time he walked into his room, he wouldn’t see his steadily expanding stomach.

At 21 weeks, he went back to Caltech for the fall semester. Edwards saw his stomach and dragged him into his office after the first class demanding to know if the baby was his. When Spencer told him yes, the man freaked out and told him to drop his class and never speak to him again. This baby could get him in serious trouble if people found out he was the father. Spencer insisted on watching him destroy all the tapes and pictures of his abuse to be sure that it was gone.

At 25 weeks, he made his decision to go with the Open Arms adoption agency in Spring Hills, Las Vegas. He called them and started filling out all the necessary paperwork so that the new parents would be able to take custody of the baby right after the birth.

At 36 weeks, on December 12, 1996, he woke up in the middle of the night to soaked sheets and panicked. This was not supposed to happen so early. He knew realistically that giving birth to a baby at 36 weeks wasn’t bad, but he was still scared. He’d thought he had a couple more weeks to get his mind ready to give birth.

He waddled to his Mom’s room and knocked on the door.

“Who are you?!” she shouted and he could hear the paranoia in her voice.

“Mom, it’s me, Spencer,” he tried to calm her, “My water just broke. I need to go to the hospital.”

“Water broke?” he heard her mumble and then shout, “They’ve poisoned our water!”

A contraction hit and Spencer groaned in pain.

“Spencer!” his mother shouted and swung the door open, “Don’t drink the water! It’s contaminated.”

She moved past him like she could barely see him and ran to the kitchen. He watched as she grabbed a roll of duct tape and started covering the head of the faucet. He hung his head and knew that his mother couldn’t be here for him right now.

He waddled into his bedroom and picked up his hospital go bag and made his way outside to the car. Technically, he didn’t have a license yet, but he knew how to drive. He braced himself against the car as another contraction washed over him. Breathing heavily, he threw the bag into the car and got behind the wheel.

He knew driving while having contractions was extremely dangerous, but he needed to get to the hospital and he didn’t have anyone he could ask for help. His neighbors had looked at him with disgust as his stomach grew and right now, he couldn’t deal with their judgemental stares and snide comments.

He’s never been so thankful for his long, skinny legs as he was right now because he could still comfortably reach the pedals even with his swollen belly. He carefully pulled out of the driveway and made his way to the hospital. He had to pull over multiple times when the contractions got too bad for him to drive. It took him half an hour to get the hospital not even fifteen minutes away.

He parked as close as he could, grabbed his bag, and waddled into the hospital. By the time he got to the emergency room’s front desk, he was exhausted and in a lot of pain.

“Hi,” he gasped leaning against the counter, “I’m pretty sure I’m in active labor.”

“Okay ma’am,” the receptionist greeted him calmly, “How far apart are your contractions?”

“Every two minutes and they last approximately 40 seconds,” he informed her, gripping the counter hard as another one hit.

“Ma’am, I need your and your significant other’s name.”

“Sylvia Diana Reid and the father won’t be joining us.”

“Okay, well the name of your birthing partner will be just fine.”

He looked her in the eye as the contraction subsided, “I don’t have a birthing partner.”

The shock on her face was clear to see, “You don’t have anyone here to help you?”

“No,” he confirmed, “I’m here alone.”

The nurse shook off her surprise and moved onto the next part of the admission process. Thankfully, because this was his normal hospital, they had everything about him already on file. She quickly got him into a room so they could monitor his progress. He tried not to flinch away from his doctor when he came in to check on him, but he couldn’t help it. Having a man looking at him there reminded him of Edwards too much.

He practiced his breathing exercises and was given an epidural for the pain as he got closer to giving birth. He had them call the adoption agency and alert them that he’d gone into early labor and that the new parents should come to the hospital now. He did, however, request that there be no contact between him and the couple. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle the hopeful, joyous looks on their faces on the worst day of his life.

It felt like an eternity of pain and waiting before the doctor came back in and told him it was time to push. Spencer screamed and gripped the side of the bed, desperately wishing at least someone was here to guide him through this and hold his hand. The pain was so intense, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to do it. The nurse by his head whispered kind, encouraging words to him and he latched onto them like a life line and used them to motivate himself to keep pushing.

Suddenly, all the pressure disappeared and a moment later a loud cry could be heard. Spencer lifted his head up and looked down between his legs to see his baby.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced, cutting the umbilical cord.

“Would you like to hold him?” the kind nurse asked him.

He stared up at her and thought for a minute before shaking his head.

”If I hold him now, I’ll never be able to let him go,” he whispered, his eyes flooding with unshed tears.

The doctor didn’t question his decision, he simply handed the baby off to another nurse to be cleaned and taken care of until he was released into the custody of his adoptive parents.

Spencer groaned in pain and exhaustion as he pushed out the afterbirth and the staff worked to clean him up. It was over, done, finished. All his shame and pain could finally go away. He watched as his son, his baby boy, left the room in the arms of the medical staff never to return.

Later, alone in his recovery room, Spencer wept.


	9. Safe Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/Referenced past rape/non-con

Morgan watched in horror as Spencer’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. On instinct, before his mind even registered that he was doing it, he was rushing forward to catch him. He arrived just in time to loop his arms under the smaller man’s shoulders and keep him from hitting the floor on top of the broken mug.

“Hotch,” Morgan called desperately, “Help me with him.”

Hotch swiftly stepped forward and helped Morgan maneuver the kid so he was being carried bridal style in the dark agent’s arms. His head was lolled back and right arm hung limply by his side. Morgan hugged him to his chest and looked down at him. He was barely even thinking about the revelation of Spencer’s hidden son. Right now he just wanted to get his friend somewhere safe so he could rest.

“Where can I put him?” Morgan asked Hotch, “There a couch in a private room or something?”

JJ spoke up, “There’s a couch in the family waiting area. That’s about as private as you’ll get in a police station.”

Morgan nodded and took off with Spencer in his arms. He thanked his lucky stars the door was open and nobody was inside. The looks they received from the local cops were bad enough. He did not want to have to deal with a family questioning why a federal agent had passed out while working on their case.

He gently lowered Spencer onto the couch. Once he was sure he was stable, he tucked one of the pillows behind his head and moved his arm out from under his body. Morgan grabbed one of the chairs and slid it across the floor so that he could be right by Spencer’s side. He couldn’t help himself as he reached out for one of Spencer’s hands and held it in between his own.

The door opened wider as the rest of the team entered the room, none of them making any noise. They all just stood there for a couple minutes trying to process everything that had just happened. Their beloved boy wonder is the mother of an 18 year old boy who was currently wanted for five counts of murder, four counts of feticide, and three counts of kidnapping and torture.

“Did anyone know about this?” JJ asked quietly.

They all shook their heads solemnly. Reid had never even hinted at the fact that he’d given birth before. He’d barely even admitted that he’d had sex before. And if it wasn’t for Garcia’s amazing ability to weasel information out of the genius, they might not even know that. 

“What now?” Morgan asked, “I can barely comprehend the fact that this is happening, let alone figure out how it affects our case.”

“Well, the profile is still correct,” Hotch spoke, though his voice was much softer than usual, “That includes the part of the profile that says when cornered he’ll probably try to shoot his way out.”

“Oh my god,” Prentiss groaned, “Please tell me we are not going to have to shoot Reid’s son.”

“I hope not,” Hotch agreed, “But that might mean we have to say some things about Reid to Paul that aren’t necessarily true.”

Morgan really didn’t like the idea of smearing Reid’s name even if it would help bring in Paul without having to kill him. On the other hand, however, he really did not want to know what would happen if Reid woke up and found out that one of them had been forced to kill his son.

“Now comes the hard part,” Hotch continued, “If we’re going to catch Paul’s attention, we need to know everything about how he was conceived and why Reid chose to give him up.”

Rossi stepped forward and looked down at the young agent on the couch.

“I think I might have a theory about that,” he said, clearly reluctant to do so, “And none of you are going to like it.”

“What is it, Rossi?” Morgan asked, scared of what the older man was going to say.

Rossi sighed deeply, but pushed on anyway, “Spencer was the one who figured out that Mary was being molested by her English teacher. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. And when Spencer confronted Beving about it, it didn’t just feel like an agent letting his anger get the best of him. It felt personal, like he somehow knew exactly what Mary had gone through.”

“You think he was molested?” Morgan clarified staring up at Rossi.

“I do, probably multiple times. If Paul is 18 now, that means Spencer would’ve been 15 when he gave birth to him. He was enrolled at Caltech during that time. I would bet that it was one of his college professors considering how pissed off he was at Beving.”

“Okay, that’s a theory I’m _really_ hoping isn’t right,” JJ grimaced.

“It does make sense though,” Hotch admitted reluctantly, crossing his arms, “I think we’ve all noticed how much this case, particularly Beving’s involvement, has gotten to him. It must be because the entire time we were talking about the case, we were reminding him about the conception and delivery of the son he’d given up.”

Morgan looked down sorrowfully at Reid, his best friend. This man he loved so deeply was in pain and he didn’t know how to help him. Yes, he’d been molested himself, but he never had to carry his abuser’s baby to term and then give that baby up.

A thought struck Morgan, “Guys, what if Paul knows Spencer is his mother? Knows that he works for the BAU?”

“What are you getting at Morgan?” Hotch asked.

“Think about the timeline,” he said, “The first two girls he held and tortured for three days before he killed them and dumped their bodies. Alexandra, the girl he grabbed the day we got the case, he had for less than 24 hours.”

“Yes, but the ME established that she died early due to her heart arrhythmia and the electric shocks,” Prentiss pointed out.

“But she also said the level of the shocks administered to her was higher than the previous two victims,” Morgan replied, “And even if drawing Reid here wasn’t his original intention, what if our arrival is what triggered his devolution?”

“If he knew Spencer is his mother and suddenly he’s in town trying to catch and arrest him,” Rossi mused, “It could’ve pushed him over the edge. Having his birth mother so close and yet still not being able to get to him could account for his increased violence and rage.”

Hotch pulled out his phone and called Garcia.

“How’s my boy?” came her voice immediately over the speaker.

“Still unconscious, but okay,” Hotch comforted her.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked, “My fingers are at the ready.”

“We need to figure out where Paul might be going. Which adoption agency did Spencer go through?”

“Uh, he went through the Open Arms Adoption Agency in Spring Hills, Las Vegas.”

“That’s the name of the adoption agency the last woman, the one who wasn’t pregnant, was attacked outside of,” Prentiss realized.

“So he’s tracing back Spence’s footsteps,” JJ theorized, “That could mean his childhood home could be on his list of places he’ll visit.”

“Garcia?” Hotch started, but she cut him off.

“Way ahead of you,” she said, “I’m looking up boy genius’ first home as we speak. Uh oh.”

“What is it?”

“I have two possible addresses. He lived the first four years of his life at 6173 Moorpark way and then they moved to 4956 Breinholt avenue where he lived until moving to Quantico, Virginia to join the FBI.”

“He’ll most likely be headed for the second one since that would’ve been where he’d grown up if Spencer had kept him,” Hotch decided, “JJ and Rossi, I want you two to go to the first address just in case. Prentiss, Morgan and I-”

“No, Hotch,” Morgan stopped him.

“I’m sorry?”

“I know it’s important that we catch this guy and take him alive, but I can’t leave him like this. I just can’t.”

Hotch nodded his understanding, “Presntiss and I will take Breinholt. Let’s go and please remember that this is Reid’s son. If you do have to shoot him, try not to kill him.”

They all nodded their agreement as they left the room. JJ stopped briefly before she left and let her hand caress Spencer’s cheek.

“Call me if anything happens,” she told Morgan.

“Of course,” he promised.

She dropped her hand and left to go get ready, closing the door behind her. Morgan leaned closer to Spencer and pressed his head against the back of Spencer’s hand. With the team now gone, the space between them felt so intimate and way too quiet. He listened intently to Reid’s soft breaths that proved he was okay.

Morgan watched through the glass as the rest of the team left to go catch Paul. He knew he should have gone with them, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Reid alone right now. He didn’t want the kid to wake up alone in the middle of a police precinct after having such a big secret exposed like that. He knew how awful that felt having gone through it in Chicago with Buford.

The minutes continued to tick by as he just watched Spencer rest. Then, the hand he was holding twitched slightly.

“Spencer?” he called softly.

There was no reply. In fact, he still seemed to be completely out of it. Morgan looked at his face more closely and noticed that his eyes were moving rapidly under the thin skin of his eyelids. A slight tremor started in his chest and soon his whole body was shaking.

“Reid!” Morgan shouted, hoping to rouse him from what was most likely a nightmare.

Reid breathing started speeding up and he kept thrashing his head from side to side. Morgan reached over and gently touched his shoulder, but the response he got quickly had him snatching it away.

“No!” Spencer shouted and scratched at him, though he was very clearly still asleep, “Get off me!”

Morgan watched in horror as Spencer started spasming while screaming and begging for an unseen foe to let go of him. Not knowing what else to do, Morgan knelt down on the ground and started whispering soft words into his ear.

“Spencer, it's Morgan,” he said gently, his eyes filling with tears that were threatening to roll down his cheeks, “You are safe. He can’t get to you here. You are safe.”

He just kept repeating those phrases and eventually, Spencer started to calm down. Morgan noticed the tears rolling down his pretty boy’s face and couldn’t help the few that escaped him as well. He hesitantly reached for the boy again, gently settling his hand on Spencer’s upper arm. 

“Spencer,” he pleaded, “I love you, please wake up. You’re scaring me, man. I don’t know how to help you like this.”

He leaned forward, despite the pain in his knees from kneeling on tile, and rested his head on Spencer’s shoulder. He kept his head there for what felt like an eternity, praying that Spencer would be okay.

“Derek?” came a groggy voice above him and Morgan’s head shot up.

His eyes locked onto Spencer’s slowly opening ones and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey, pretty boy,” he murmured, a smile alighting on his lips.

“What happened?” he asked, lifting the hand not currently being held by Morgan’s to rub at his eyes.

“You fainted,” he explained, “When Garcia read off your deadname as our unsub’s mother, you passed out. I had to carry you in here.”

That seemed to get the kid’s attention as he shot up from his sleeping position.

“What?!” he shrieked, “That wasn’t a dream?”

Morgan shook his head sadly, “No, it wasn’t.”

“No,” he whispered, beginning to panic, “No, no, no. Everyone knows now. This can’t be happening.”

“I’m so sorry,” he tried, but it was clear Spencer couldn’t hear him.

Spencer tried to stand, but his legs were too shaky and he fell back down onto the couch. He curled in on himself as his panic increased.

“My son can’t be the one who did all those horrible things,” he whimpered, “It can’t be true, it can’t.”

“I know it’s a lot to process-“

“My mother has schizophrenia and now my son is a psychotic killer,” he cried, “My family has to be cursed.”

“Spencer, it has nothing to do with you or your family,” Morgan reasoned with him, but Spencer ignored him.

Instead, he ran his hands up into his hair and gripped it tight, digging his nails into his scalp.

“The agency told me they were a good couple. They promised me he would be safe.”

Morgan immediately got up and reached over to cover Spencer’s hands with his own, slowly coaxing his fingers to relax the surely painful grip on his hair. He didn’t want Spencer to hurt himself while he processed what was happening.

“They probably were good people when they first adopted him,” Morgan reasoned, threading his and Spencer’s fingers together, “Something must have happened later to change that. You couldn’t have known-“

“No! You don’t get it,” he shouted, snatching his hands back from him, “I abandoned my son to that. I... I did this. This is my fault!”

“No it isn’t,” he said firmly yet calmly, settling onto the couch next to Spencer, “None of this is your fault. You only did what you thought was best for him.”

“And clearly I was wrong,” he snapped, wrapping his arms around himself and glaring at Morgan, “If I had kept him all those years ago, maybe those women and their babies would still be alive.”

“Spencer, you couldn’t possibly have raised him and done all the things you’ve done. You chose the best course of action with the information you had at the time.”

“Screw the FBI! Forget everything I was able to do because I abandoned my son. I should’ve dropped out of school and been a proper mother to him. I should’ve known not to trust anyone else with my baby,” he argued, “Children in the foster care system are four times more likely to be abused than children who grow up with their birth parents.”

“Yes, but Paul didn’t grow up in the foster care system. He was adopted as an infant,” Morgan reminded him, “Adoption agencies have extreme vetting programs for potential parents. There is no way you could’ve known what the future held for them.”

Spencer hugged his legs tighter against his chest and buried his head against them.

“I never even met them, Morgan,” he revealed, his sniffles and voice muffled slightly by his arms, “The day I gave birth to him, I was alone and so scared-”

“Alone? Your mom wasn’t with you?”

He lifted up slightly to shake his head, “She was having an episode when my water broke. I knew I couldn’t take her with me to the hospital like that. So, I drove myself there and gave birth on my own. She didn’t even realize I’d given birth until a few days after I returned home from the hospital.”

Morgan’s heart broke for his friend. He couldn’t imagine how terrifying that must have been for him. Childbirth is an excruciatingly painful and exhausting process, both physically and emotionally. To have to go through it with no emotional support during or after sounded like hell. Once again, he was amazed by Spencer’s strength.

“I couldn’t handle meeting his adoptive parents” he continued, “Knowing that they were going to get to raise my baby boy hurt so bad. But maybe if I had I would’ve seen something that indicated who they really were and I could’ve stopped the process.”

Morgan reached out and placed a hand on Spencer’s crossed arms, “Spencer, you were fifteen years old. There’s no way you could’ve predicted-”

“I’m a certified genius, I might have been able to see something! But no, even with all my brain power and knowledge, I still managed to condemn my son to a life of abuse. I should’ve kept him.”

“And given up on all your goals because some bastard impregnated you?”

Spencer lifted his head up to look at Morgan, tear tracks prominent on his pale skin, “Rossi shared his theory?”

Morgan nodded, “He told us he believes you were molested by someone, probably a professor in college, and that’s how you got pregnant.”

Reid huffed out a rueful laugh, “I always knew he was the best profiler on the team.”

“I take it he guessed right then?”

Spencer nodded, “Dr. Jared Edwards, my second year chemistry professor at Caltech.”

Morgan didn’t respond. Instead he waited for Spencer to tell him whatever he felt comfortable revealing at his own pace.

“At first the attention he paid me seemed fine, normal even,” he began, “He would invite me up to his office to discuss advanced scientific theories and debate what was going on in fields like quantum mechanics and dark matter. When he first started touching me, they were innocent enough touches. I thought he was just being nice. My father left when I was ten and even before that he wasn’t ever exactly tactile, so I didn’t see the warning signs.

One day I went into the office and closed the door like I normally did, but this time he’d locked the deadbolt without me realizing it. So when I closed the door, I effectively locked myself inside with him. That’s when he... when he...”

“When he what, Spencer?” Morgan nudged not wanting to take the words out of the kids mouth.

“That was the first time he raped me,” he whispered, shame flooding his voice, “I passed out afterwards and he took pictures of me like that. He used them to blackmail me into having sex with him until the end of the spring semester.”

“And during that time, that’s when he got you pregnant.”

Spencer nodded, tears starting to slip from his eyes again, “I knew I was pregnant before I even took the test. I really shouldn’t have been so surprised. Edwards never did like to wear condoms. He felt like they _ruined the experience.”_

Morgan felt a hot, burning rage boil up inside him. He wanted to rip this guy apart until there was nothing left of him.

“Please tell me this man is somewhere nearby. I’m going to mount his head on a stick,” he growled, his hands curling into fists, “Statute of limitations for rape in Nevada is 20 years, right?”

Spencer sighed sadly, “Yes, but unfortunately, unless you want to dig up, decapitate, and prosecute a corpse, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Edwards is dead?” Morgan asked, surprised.

“Died six years ago from cancer.”

“Damn. Why’d you never turn him in? Your baby’s DNA would’ve been more than enough proof that he was committing statutory rape.”

“Derek, I was a 15 year old child prodigy at Caltech university. Practically everyone on campus knew who I was. I didn’t want any more attention turned my way. Especially not the kind of attention that would come with accusing a well respected professor of sexual assault. Even if I got him locked up, the number of rumors that would’ve stuck with me would’ve been astronomical.”

Derek nodded his understanding, “I know the feeling. I just wish you would’ve felt comfortable talking to me about this. Especially after my history with Carl Buford was revealed.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to confide in you, it’s just that I resolved to never tell anyone,” he explained, “Not even my Mom.”

“She never asked who the father of your baby was?”

“She did. I lied and told her it was another student. She never asked me again.”

A few minutes of silence passed between them. Morgan knew it was important to give Reid a little space to process all this, but he also knew the kid shouldn’t be left alone.

“Where’s the team?” Reid asked changing subjects, wiping at his face with his hands.

“We got a lead on where Paul might be heading next. The team went to try to head him off.”

“Where?”

“One of your childhood homes.”

“Makes sense that those would be on his list of targets. Breinholt would’ve been his home too if I’d kept him. He might feel like he’s entitled to it.”

“We also profiled that based on the timeline of his devolution, he might have started these murders with the distinct purpose of drawing you out here. He started devolving as soon as we arrived.”

He watched as Spencer swallowed hard and started picking at his fingernails, “So all of this _was_ because of me. He was trying to get my attention.”

“That’s not what I-”

“No, that’s exactly what happened. He murdered four pregnant women and their babies, plus one who’d recently given birth, all to get to me.”

“Spencer,” Morgan pushed, “You are not responsible for his actions.”

“But I am responsible for willingly giving him over to the people that abused him,” he snapped, “The people that pushed him to this.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

“Why not?” he asked, his tone harsh, “It was my decision to give him up. My decision to abandon my own flesh and blood solely so that my life wouldn’t be inconvenienced.”

“Spencer, you were raped. Paul was not conceived consensually. You had every right to give him up so that your life could get back on track. You wanted to continue your education and complete your transition, nobody can fault you for that. If you think about it, all of this is really Edwards' fault, not yours.”

Spencer sighed, the sound conveying just how weary the kid was.

“Derek?” he asked softly.

“Yes?”

“I’m too tired to argue anymore. Can you please just hold me? It’s how my Mom used to comfort me.”

“Of course, pretty boy. Come here.”

Morgan opened his arms and happily accepted Spencer into them. The kid laid his head down on his shoulder and curled up against his side, his arms wrapping around Morgan’s torso. Morgan placed one of his arms around the smaller man’s back and hugged him close. He listened as Spencer’s breathing evened out as he fell asleep. He looked so incredibly young and peaceful laying there, curled up against him. His heart filled with so much love that Morgan felt like it might just burst. He gently ran a hand through the kid’s curls and smiled down at him. He was happy that, despite all that had been revealed today, Spencer still felt safe with him.


	10. Paul Anderson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied transphobia

Prentiss was very rarely felt this anxious going out into the field. She was normally calm and collected finding it the best way to deal with unpredictable situations. This time, however, there was a new variable that she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around: Spencer’s son. She’d seen how horrified he’d been when the baby he’d kept secret for 18 years was suddenly uncovered. The last thing she wanted to have to do was put Reid’s son down before he even got a chance to decide whether or not he wanted to meet him.

Her phone rang and she picked it up to see that it was Garcia calling.

“What’s up, Garcia?” she asked.

“What’s up is I have some more information that you guys should know before walking in 187’s childhood home. It is now owned by the Calvin’s, a young couple that only got married and bought the place two years ago,” she relayed to them, “But the real bad news here is that Genieve and Malcolm are expecting. Genieve is six months pregnant.”

“That’s really not good,” Hotch said, as he sped towards the house, “He could become enraged at the sight of another woman getting ready to become a mother and raise her baby in that house. The house he would’ve grown up in if Reid had kept him.”

Prentiss nodded her agreement, praying to anyone who would listen that they’d be able to talk Paul down. She didn’t want to shoot her friend’s kid, but they couldn’t let another innocent mother and baby die at his hands.

Arriving at the house, Prentiss and Hotch both adjusted their bulletproof vests as they climbed out of their SUV. They made their way up to the front door of Spencer’s old house but found themselves drawing their guns when they heard screaming inside. Hotch moved in front of Prentiss and tried the door knob. It was unlocked and the door swung open easily. Together they entered the house and moved quickly, clearing each room as they went, to the source of the distressed yelling.

Prentiss rounded the corner from the kitchen and saw Paul Anderson, Reid’s son, standing in the middle of the living room with a knife to Genieve’s neck. Her husband was on the ground, his hands raised in surrender as he begged the man not to kill his pregnant wife.

“Paul,” Prentiss called out to him, “I’m Agent Presntiss with the FBI. I need you to drop the knife and let her go.”

Close up she could see the resemblance between Reid and his son. They both had the same sharp cheekbones and pale skin. But unlike Spencer, there was an anger and a hatred in his eyes that scared her a little bit. He also had a long scar on the right side of his face, running from the top of his cheekbone to the side of his chin.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hotch enter the room and train his gun on Paul.

“No!” Paul yelled back at her, “Why should this baby get the privilege of growing up here when I didn’t?”

“Your mother had to make a very difficult choice when you were born,” Prentiss reasoned with him, “He only did what he thought was best for you.”

“What? Leaving me to those horrible people? Robert was a mean drunk. He used to beat on me and Rita.”

“Adoption agencies have a strict vetting processes for new parents. Your parents were approved by the adoption agency, so he had no reason to worry about giving you to them.”

“Well they got it wrong.”

“I know they did, but that’s not his fault. He was trying to give you a better life than the one you would’ve had with him.”

Paul looked around the room, “This looks like a nice place to grow up. It’s definitely better than the overcrowded trailer park I ended up in.”

Hotch took a step closer and replied, “I know you’ve had a rough life, but you have to know that these people are innocent.”

“It’s not fair!” Paul shouted.

“No, it’s not,” Prentiss sympathized with him, “But it’s still not their fault. We know that somewhere along the way your father lost himself and became someone new, someone cruel and horrible. He stopped being the man he was when he adopted you. Your mother, Rita-”

“She’s not my mom!” he screamed at them, “Sylvia Reid is my mom! Or should I say, Spencer? Either way, she needs to pay for abandoning me to that house.”

“Okay,” Prentiss agreed, “Spencer is your mother, not Rita.”

“We can take you to meet him,” Hotch cut in.

Paul’s eyes left Prenstiss and settled on Hotch.

“Bring her here,” he demanded.

“You know we can’t do anything for you until you let that woman go,” Hotch tried, glancing at the terrified woman.

“How can I trust you? You’ll take me back to the station and I’ll never see her. Bring her here, now. Or I’ll open up this woman’s throat.”

Prentiss glanced over at Hotch, waiting to see how he wanted to handle the demand. She knew there was no way Paul was going to give them a clear shot and even if he did, she really did not want to have to take it. But she also wasn’t sure if Spencer would be able to handle meeting his son for the first time while he held a pregnant woman hostage in his old home.

“How about this?” Hotch tried to placate him, “I’ll call him and you can speak to him over the phone?”

Paul glared at him, “I want her here, now! Just like how it was supposed to be. Her and me, in this house, together.”

Prentiss could practically see Hotch weighing his options. To bring Reid here knowing he was quite possibly Paul’s endgame was a huge risk, but she wasn’t really seeing much of another option at this point.

“It will take time,” Hotch spoke steadily, his emotions concealed behind his work mask.

“I can wait,” Paul agreed, “Now call her.”

Hotch nodded his consent, put his gun back in its holster and pulled out his phone.

* * *

Morgan laid his head laid back against the couch as he held Spencer against him. He knew that this would look weird to the local cops, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Who cares if two federal agents were cuddling on the family room couch? Considering what’s happened today, it should be more than understandable.

To be honest though, if Spencer ever decided to straight up kiss him in front of a room full of cops, he would happily return the kiss. There was a time when people finding out he was bisexual scared the shit out of him, but now he couldn’t care less. His love for Spencer outweighed any personal reservation he had about people discovering his sexuality.

He never mentioned it at work simply because it never came up. The girl he picked up on the night they got this case was an anomaly for him anymore. Ever since he’d realized he was in love with the boy genius, his interest in everyone else became practically nonexistent. He’d really only picked her up for some stress relief, not because he truly felt any kind of connection with her.

He desperately wanted to tell Spencer how he felt, but the kid is always so hard to read when it comes to stuff like that. Of course now he could assume that it wasn’t solely caused by the adorable awkwardness he suffered when confronted with someone flirting with him. Somehow though, all this made him feel even more nervous about telling Spencer. He didn’t want to make the kid uncomfortable being around him if he wasn’t interested. He valued their friendship too much.

His phone rang in his pocket, breaking him out of his thoughts. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw that it was Hotch. Fear settled into the pit of his stomach as he hoped he wasn’t calling him to inform him that they’d had to kill Paul. Reid would be devastated.

“Morgan,” he said into the receiver.

“It’s Hotch,” came his boss’ voice, “We’re with Paul and he has a pregnant woman, Genieve, hostage. He’s demanding to see Reid.”

“Shit. I’m not sure the kid will be up to that.”

“Up to what?” came Reid’s tired voice as he cracked one eye open.

They were all trained to wake up immediately at the sound of a phone ringing, so it wasn’t that surprising the call had woken him up.

“Hotch and Prentiss have Paul at Breinholt, but he’s holding a woman hostage. He’s refusing to let her go until he sees you.”

Morgan could see the fear seeping into Reid’s face.

“I have to go there and talk to him?” he asked, his breathing already speeding up.

“Do you think you can handle doing that?” Morgan asked sincerely.

Reid sat up, his face pale, “I don’t know, but I also really don’t have much of a choice. He’s going to kill that woman if I don’t go.”

Morgan looked sorrowfully over at him, “If it helps, I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, “We should grab our vests and go.”

Morgan nodded, “We’re on our way Hotch.”

* * *

Spencer felt like he was going to vomit right there in the SUV. The normally comforting pressure of his bulletproof vest felt horribly suffocating today. 18 years, it’s been 18 years since he saw his son. Even then, he’d only seen him for a second as the medical staff took him away. He has no idea what to say to his son to get him to stand down. He knew Paul’s profile like the back of his hand thanks to his eidetic memory, but that also means he’s fully aware his son might try to kill him.

He glanced over at Morgan and he could see the stress in his tensed shoulders. He wasn’t any more happy with the plan to give Paul what he wanted, aka Reid, than the rest of the team was. They all knew killing him was most likely Paul’s endgame. As they got closer to his former home and the streets started looking more and more familiar, Spencer’s anxiety rose. Everyone was going to be depending on him to diffuse the situation and he wasn’t sure that he could.

The SUV jerked as Morgan stopped the car abruptly in the driveway. Spencer climbed out of the car and ran towards the door. He could distantly make out the voices of Hotch and Prentiss trying to keep Paul calm. That’s when he heard another voice, one he didn’t recognize. It didn’t sound scared, so it probably wasn’t the hostage or her husband and then it hit him, it was his son’s voice.

He reached the door and froze. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he listened to his son speak for the first time.

“Where is she?” he demanded, “You said she was coming!”

“Didn’t you hear that car pull up?” Hotch replied, “That was him arriving. He’ll be in here any second now.”

“Spencer?” Morgan placed his hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

Reid swallowed thickly and looked over at his friend.

“No,” he admitted, “I’m not sure I can do this.”

Next thing he knew, Morgan was holding his hand tight in his own.

“Try not to think about everything too much. Just focus on saying what you need to in order to get him to let Genieve go. I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Morgan reassured him.

As they entered the house, Morgan called to their boss, "Hotch?"

“Living room,” came the response.

Spencer nodded and took a deep breath as he entered what was once his home. He followed the familiar path through the kitchen to the living room. Everything looked so different and yet was so intensely familiar. Stepping out of the kitchen and into the living room, Reid’s eyes landed on a young man standing in the middle of the room holding a knife to a pregnant woman’s throat. Their eyes met and Spencer blood ran cold. His son has the same piercing blue eyes that Edwards had. The long scar down his face was also deeply concerning.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Spencer cautiously stepped forward. He could feel Morgan behind him and his presence helped calm him just a little bit.

“P-Paul?” he started, his voice wavering a little bit.

The boy glared at him as their eyes met for the first time, “Hi Mom.”

Spencer flinched at the title, “I’m here. You can let her go now.”

“Not yet,” he declined, shifting the knife at the woman’s neck slightly, “I want you to answer some questions first.”

“Anything,” Spencer agreed without hesitation.

“Why’d you abandon me?”

“I put you up for adoption because I couldn’t afford to take care of you.”

“Couldn’t afford to or didn’t want to?”

“Couldn’t afford to,” Spencer insisted, “My Mom’s disability check barely covered the cost for just me and her to live. There was no way I could raise a baby with such little money.”

“You could’ve gotten a job.”

“I know, but-”

“But you didn’t,” Paul hissed, “You took the easy way out.”

Spencer shook his head, “Trust me when I say that giving you up was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It broke my heart knowing I would probably never see you again.”

“Liar!” he screamed and Spencer flinched again, “You hated me.”

“No! I hated your father, never you. I _never_ hated you.”

“But you didn’t love me.”

Spencer felt his heart drop into his stomach as he debated what to tell him.

“I didn’t allow myself to love you,” Spencer replied, opting for the truth.

“Why not?”

“Because I knew from the moment I found out I was pregnant with you that I would have to give you up. Between my financial restraints and my mother’s schizophrenia, keeping you was a pipe dream I never allowed myself to dwell on.”

“What’s my name?” Paul asked.

Spencer looked at him confused, “Your name is Paul Anderson.”

He shook his head, anger flashing in his eyes, “No, that is what Rita and Robert called me. What’s my name?”

Spencer glanced over at Hotch at a complete loss.

He looked back at his son, “I... I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Paul glared at Spencer and he spoke very slowly, as if talking to an idiot, “If you had kept me, what would you have named me?”

Spencer’s eyes widened in shock. He had never expected to be asked that question. He knew the answer, but had never allowed himself to say it aloud because the reality that he hadn’t gotten to name his baby hurt too much. After giving birth and then not being able to keep his baby, he’d become deeply depressed and turned to research to help find a solution. He’d read that in miscarriages, it sometimes helped to name the baby and treat it like a death. So, despite his son not being a miscarriage, he tried it. It hadn’t really helped much, but he’d never forgotten the name.

Growing tired of waiting, Paul yelled at his mother, “Tell me!”

“Liam!” Spencer blurted out, “I would’ve named you Liam Edmon.”

“Liam Edmon Reid,” he mused, feeling the name out, “Liam Reid. Why?”

“Liam, a shortened version of the Irish name Uilliam from the Frankish Wilahelm meaning ‘helmet of will,’ today means strong-willed warrior. Edmon, a variant of the English name Edmund, means prosperous protector.”

“Why do those meanings matter?”

“Because you saved my life,” Spencer admitted, casting his eyes toward the ground.

He couldn’t bear to look at the son he'd abandoned to an abuser as he admitted that his very existence has saved Reid from his. 

Paul looked genuinely shocked by that, “How did I save your life?”

“Your father and I were not in a consensual relationship. He was my college professor at Caltech University. He blackmailed me into having sex with him when I was 15 and he was 34. When he found out he’d gotten me pregnant, he destroyed everything he had on me and told me never to speak to him again.”

Paul stared at Reid breathing heavily, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“So you’re saying,” he stated slowly, harsh anger filling voice, “that I saved you from abuse and then you turned around and handed me willingly into it!”

”No!” Spencer protested, but it was too late.

Paul’s face contorted with rage and he shoved the woman in his arms down--where she thankfully landed on the nearby couch--and charged Spencer screaming that he hated him. Then it felt like everything happened at once. Before he could even move, Spencer felt Morgan’s arms wrap around him from behind and pull him back as he watched as Hotch was forced to put a bullet in his son.


	11. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/Referenced transphobia

Spencer watched, almost in slow motion, as his son collapsed in front of him. Hotch, not wanting to kill Paul, had shot him in the leg. As he hit the ground, Prentiss jumped into action and kicked the knife out of his hand. Paul yelled in anger, frustration, and pain as he was handcuffed by Prentiss.

“We need medics in here,” Hotch said into his mic.

Across the room, he could see Mr. Calvin comforting his wife, who was sobbing uncontrollably and caressing her six month baby bump. Spencer, however, was far more focused on the blood pouring from Paul’s leg and soaking into the cream colored carpet. He felt tears flood his eyes as his legs gave out from under him. He was just barely aware of Morgan holding him tight in his arms and slowly lowering both of them to the ground. Spencer sat with his legs bent partly under him and his upper body leaning against his friend.

Though his vision was blurry from the tears streaming down his face, he watched as the medics rushed onto the scene from behind them. One of them went immediately to Paul while the other made his way to Genieve. The medic quickly cut the pant leg away to get to the injury. He worked quickly, but the entire time he did Paul was spewing hate filled profanity directed towards Reid. Some of it was just about how he wanted to kill him, but he also threw in some transphobic comments simply because he knew they would hurt.

Unable to bear listening to it, Spencer covered his ears with his hands as he cried. There had always been the possibility that his son would choose to seek him out, but he had never imagined their meeting going like this. He felt Derek’s arms move from his waist to cover him and pull his head against his chest. One of the hands made its way up to his head where the fingers threaded themselves into his hair as Morgan pressed his cheek against Spencer’s forehead.

He knew Morgan was whispering something to him, but he couldn’t make it out over the white noise clouding his mind. All of this was his fault. He’d abandoned his son to a family that neglected and abused him. Then, when they finally met again after 18 years, he’d failed to talk him down resulting in him getting shot. Everything was such a mess. Part of him wanted to run away from everything and never talk to any of the people he knows ever again out of shame. Not only did his entire BAU family know that he was raped in college, they knew what a huge failure he truly was.

Once they had the bleeding under control, the medics worked together to get Paul onto a stretcher and take him to the hospital. As soon as Paul’s voice could no longer be heard, Spencer took his hands away from his ears and wrapped them around Derek’s neck. Using what little strength he had left in his body, he pressed himself deeper into Morgan’s embrace, who was already practically cradling him at this point.

Reid wanted to follow Paul to the hospital, but he couldn’t make himself get up. He also doubted Hotch would let him go. It seemed like every decision he made regarding Paul only hurt his son more. Put him up for adoption to give him a better life? He’s placed with a family that abuses him. Try to answer all his questions honestly because he deserves the truth? He gets shot.

“I’m a horrible mother,” Spencer whispered against Morgan’s chest.

Derek immediately responded, “No, Spencer, listen to me. You are not a bad mother.”

Spencer clutched at the older agent’s shirt, “Yes I am. My son was just shot and it’s my fault.”

“You can’t think that way. Paul got shot because of his own decisions.”

“Decisions he made because-”

“No,” Morgan cut him off.

“But-”

“No!” Morgan did it again, but this time with more force, “I will not let you continue to believe that any of this is your fault.”

Not wanting to argue with him in front of both their team and the local police force, Spencer let the issue drop. He could feel movement around them, but everything was painfully quiet. He realized that it was probably because a fully grown federal agent was having a complete mental breakdown on the floor of a victim’s home.

Suddenly feeling extremely self aware and embarrassed, Spencer asked Morgan, “Please take me back to the hotel. I don’t want people to see me like this anymore.”

“Okay, pretty boy,” he agreed, “Can you stand?”

Spencer nodded his head slightly, “I think so.”

They let go of each other as Morgan stood up first and then helped Spencer stand. His legs felt weak and shaky, but he was determined to not be carried out of here. He is a goddamn federal agent and he is not going to let the local cops see him fall to pieces. And it’s not like his son was dead. He was shot in the leg so, no matter how much of a failure the incident made him feel like, he had a very high chance at a full recovery.

Morgan did, however, insist on holding his hand. Spencer appreciated the touch as just that small point of contact between them kept him grounded. They made it to the SUV and Spencer climbed into the passenger seat, ripping off his bulletproof vest before allowing himself to go boneless once again.

The last 36 hours have been so emotionally exhausting, it had him feeling like he could sleep for a week. On the other hand, however, the return of his son and the subsequent disastrous standoff had his anxiety so far through the roof he wasn’t sure he would be able to quiet his mind long enough to actually fall asleep.

A knock on his window had him jumping in his seat. He looked over to see Hotch standing there, so he rolled down the window.

“Hey Hotch,” he greeted him trying to sound as normal as possible.

“I’m so sorry, Reid,” he apologized, “I really didn’t want to do that.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “You only did what you had to. I’m sorry I made it necessary.”

“None of this is your fault,” Hotch replied, sounding a lot like Morgan.

Spencer looked away from his boss, “Why do you all keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“No, it’s not,” he mumbled fiddling with the cuff of his button down shirt.

Hotch sighed, but didn’t push, “Go back to the hotel and get some rest. Someone will call you with an update later, once everything is settled.”

“Thanks,” was all the acknowledgment he could offer.

“You realize, of course, that even once he’s stable, I can’t let you see him. He’s too dangerous in an uncontrolled environment.”

“I know.”

Reid could tell Hotch felt bad about the whole situation as he turned and left the side of the car to finish processing the scene. He could feel Morgan’s eyes on him as he blankly stared at the house he used to call home. While not all of his memories of that house were good ones, the ones that were nice would now forever be tainted with the knowledge of what transpired there today. Every time he so much as blinked, he could see the stark contrast of the cream colored carpet and the crimson of his son’s blood.

He felt Morgan reach over and place one of his hands on his leg. The touch, much like the previous hand holding, helped ground him and give him something to focus on other than his complete failure as a mother. He let his own hand make its way to rest on top of Morgan’s as the older agent’s thumb rubbed soft circles into his knee. The whole time as they drove back to the hotel, Derek never took his hand back. And despite how statistically stupid it was to drive with only one hand on the wheel, Spencer didn’t protest the move.

* * *

Derek stood behind Spencer, ready to pull him out of the way at any given moment. Paul was clearly unhinged as he spoke to his mother. As soon as Paul charged, he’d sprung into action, pulling Spencer out of the way. He’d heard the gunshot more than he actually saw and registered Reid’s son go down. He was way more focused on the man in his arms.

He felt the younger man’s body go limp, so he carefully lowered them both to the ground. He could hear Spencer’s cries as he watched his son bleed onto the carpet. The medics rushed by them as he held the kid in his arms, doing his best to keep him grounded. The things Paul was shouting as the medics tended to his gunshot wound made Morgan want to beat the shit out of him, even though he was Spencer’s son. He felt Spencer’s hands come up to cover his ears as he turned away from the scene in front of him. Morgan’s heart broke for him as he basically cradled the younger agent against his chest, one hand finding its way to his soft curls.

“Don’t listen to him,” he whispered, his cheek pressed against his forehead, “None of what he’s saying is true. You did your best to take care of him. Can you hear me, pretty boy? You did your best. All of this is his fault, not yours.”

Judging by Spencer’s lack of response, he doubted the kid could even hear him. He was probably well on his way to locking himself inside his own head. That was usually how Spencer dealt with things and it most definitely wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism. Derek desperately wished they were alone in their hotel room right now so that Spencer would feel safe breaking down.

Once Paul was taken out of the house by the paramedics, Spencer let go of his ears and instead wrapped his arms around Morgan’s neck and attempted to basically burrow into the older agent’s shirt. The second Spencer started to blame himself, Morgan made sure to shut that down. He did not want Spencer to go down that path, but he was also fully aware that it was probably too late.

“Please take me back to the hotel. I don’t want people to see me like this anymore,” Spencer whispered, sniffling against his chest.

Morgan led them out to the SUV and made sure he was secure before going to let Hotch know where they were going.

“Hotch,” he called out, “I’m taking Spencer back to the hotel. He’s in bad shape.”

“I know, I feel terrible,” his boss replied glancing behind him at Reid.

“Okay, you both need to stop blaming yourselves. If this was any other unsub, you would not feel an ounce of guilt over shooting him. You and I both know he would’ve killed Reid if he’d had the chance.”

“Yes, but not all of our unsubs are my agents’ long lost children.”

Morgan nodded, understanding where he was coming from, “Do you need anything else from me before we take off?”

“Let me talk to him really quick,” Hotch replied, moving towards the SUV.

Morgan made his own way towards the SUV, walking around to the driver’s side door and climbing inside, catching the end of their conversation.

“You realize, of course, that even once he’s stable, I can’t let you see him. He’s too dangerous in an uncontrolled environment,” Hotch explained to Reid.

“I know,” came the kid’s mumbled reply.

He looked so out of it and exhausted. Morgan reached over and placed his hand on his leg in an effort to comfort him. He couldn’t help but smile when Spencer’s own hand came to rest on top of his. As he drove them back to the hotel, part of him expected Reid to scold him for driving with one hand, but he didn’t. While he was happy the kid was content to let him touch him, he was concerned about his mental state.

Arriving at the hotel, neither of them spoke a word to each other. They simply walked inside and made their way back to their room. Once inside, Spencer kicked off his shoes, as opposed to untying them like normal, and collapsed onto his bed. Morgan closed the door behind him and took off his shoes as well.

He looked sorrowfully over at Spencer laying on the bed. His face was completely devoid of emotion, which meant the kid had definitely managed to disappear into his own mind. Derek made his way over to Spencer’s bed and sat down next to him.

“Spencer?” he asked gently, placing his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

He shifted slightly at the touch, but didn’t reply.

“Spencer, how do you feel about changing into something comfier?” he whispered, carding his fingers through the boy’s hair like he was comforting a child.

The kid nodded, but again didn’t respond verbally. With his consent, Morgan got up and went over to Spencer’s go bag to grab some clothes. After he pulled Spencer’s sweatpants out, he noticed something familiar. Shoved to the side of the bag was a purple and white shirt. On it was a picture of a wildcat he recognized as “Willie the Wildcat,” his old college football mascot. He pulled the shirt out and held it in his hands. He had so many of these, he hadn’t realized he’d been missing one until just now.

He glanced back over at Spencer who had now rolled over to stare out the window, his head resting on the palm of his hand. He knew this really wasn’t the time to be coming onto Reid considering his mental state, but another part of him really wanted to see Spencer wearing his clothes. Eventually deciding now was not the time for a conversation like that, he put the shirt back in the bag and grabbed one with a bunch of what he assumed were math symbols on the front.

“Come on, pretty boy,” He said, coming to stand in front of Spencer, “I need you to at least sit up.”

The younger man groaned, but complied with the request. He looked up at Derek and his vacant gaze made his heart clench painfully. The kid looked so exhausted and put out. The last time he’d seen him get this bad was after Hankel when he was addicted to dilaudid. He watched as Spencer fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

When he huffed in frustration, Morgan offered, “Let me help you?” gesturing towards the comfy clothes in his hands.

The younger man just stared at him for a minute, but eventually gave him a nod. Carefully, Morgan reached down and unbuttoned Reid’s shirt before allowing him to shrug the material off. He handed Reid the shirt and he slipped it on. Derek held his hands out and waited patiently for the kid to take hold of them. When he did, he pulled him up so he could take off his pants. They made quick work of the belt and slacks before pulling on the sweatpants. As soon as they were done, Spencer flopped back down onto the bed, crawled up towards the pillows and collapsed.

Morgan let him rest for a moment as he too changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. He made his way over to his own bed, but stopped short when he glanced over at Spencer. The kid had curled in on himself and was shaking. He could hear the soft sniffles that indicated he was crying. Morgan couldn’t just let the kid suffer alone. Making an executive decision, he walked over to Spencer’s bed with an air of determination.

“Scootch over, pretty boy,” he told him, giving his back a soft nudge.

Spencer rolled over to look up at him in confusion, a hand coming up to wipe at his face, but he did scoot over enough for Morgan to lay down next to him. Once on the bed, Derek reached over to the kid and slowly coaxed him into his arms. Getting the message, Spencer repositioned himself to curl up against Derek’s warm chest, just like he had back at the police station. Derek couldn’t help himself and kissed the boy in his arms gently on the head.

“Rest now,” he whispered to him, “You need it.”

Spencer hummed against him and Derek watched in contentment as his tears slowed and he fell asleep.

* * *

It was maybe an hour later when Morgan noticed Spencer’s breathing was increasing rapidly. His arms were already wrapped around the smaller man, but he started rubbing one of them up and down his back. About a minute later, Spencer whimpered and gave a full body jerk. Morgan winced lightly in pain as Spencer’s hand, which had been resting gently on his forearm, clenched tightly, the nails biting into his skin. Morgan sat up slightly and tried to shake the kid awake with his other arm, but all he did was cry out in fear.

“Spencer,” he said as he shook his shoulder.

Reid let out another whimper and buried his head into Morgan’s chest. The kid was now practically gasping for air, his whole body tensing as he dreamed. Without warning, Spencer screamed and ripped his hand away from Morgan, leaving small scratches across his forearm. Morgan hissed in pain as Spencer’s nails scratched his skin, but he ignored it in favor of taking care of his best friend.

“Spencer!” he shouted louder, one of his hands cupping the boy’s chin.

Spencer’s whole body spasmed as his eyes shot open to stare up at Morgan. Derek could see the terror fading in his eyes as he slowly remembered where he was and his breathing returned to normal. Derek didn’t hesitate to pull him back against him, wrapping his arms back around him. The arm he had under the kid made its way up to let him run his fingers gently through his hair. The motion was quickly becoming one of Derek’s favorite things to do.

He felt Spencer frown against his chest and then the boy turned his head to look down his body.

Spencer gasped in horror, “Derek! You’re bleeding.”

Derek lifted up the arm Spencer had accidentally scratched and noticed that he was indeed bleeding. On his arm there were four short scratches in a row, blood slowly making its way down his forearm. He hadn’t even noticed and he wondered how Spencer had. That’s when he saw the blood smear on Spencer’s upper arm. The kid had felt the blood on his skin.

“Shit,” Morgan groaned, gently extracting himself from their embrace, “I’ll be right back.”

Morgan stood up and walked over to his go back and pulled out the first aid kit he always brought with him just in case. He grabbed what he needed and disappeared into the bathroom. He felt a little bad about getting blood on the hotel’s pristine white towels, but there was nothing he could do about it. He cleaned and bandaged himself up so as to not get blood anywhere else before going back into the main room to clean up Spencer.

When he entered the room, he noticed that he was no longer on the bed. Instead, he was sitting on the small couch next to the window, staring down at his fingers. Derek realized Spencer had figured out what happened and was now blaming himself. Morgan sighed, the last thing he wanted was for Spencer to blame anything else on himself today.

“Kid, don’t worry about it,” he said as he held the wet washcloth out to him, “It was an accident.”

Spencer gratefully took the cloth and started to clean himself off. Once the blood was gone, he kept rubbing almost like he was trying to rub his skin off.

“Whoa there, pretty boy,” Morgan reached out and stopped his hand from moving, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Better me than someone else,” he mumbled, shifting the cloth to scrub at his fingernails instead.

Once again, he kept rubbing until Morgan stopped him, tossing the soiled cloth into the nearby trash can. He doubted the hotel staff would want to reuse it. Spencer wrapped his arms around himself and leaned away from Morgan, like he was afraid he was going to hurt him again.

“Spencer, how many times do I have to say it before it sticks that big brain of yours? None of what’s happened these past few days is your fault.”

Spencer didn’t reply, he just leaned his head to the side to rest on the top of the couch.

“Come on, pretty boy,” Morgan prompted him, “Talk to me. What was that dream about? It won’t do any good to keep it all locked away.”

They sat together in silence for what felt like forever, but Derek knew if he was going to get him to talk, he couldn’t push him. He had to go at Spencer’s pace otherwise he’d just clam up and disappear inside himself.

Spencer took a shaky breath before revealing, “I dreamed I was back in that house, talking to Paul as you all watched. He had the knife to the woman’s throat and I said the wrong thing and he killed her. There was so much blood. Prentiss and Hotch had their guns jam as Paul charged me. I could hear you yelling my name behind me as he plunged the knife into my heart. That’s when I woke up.”

“Damn, Spencer,” Morgan replied, “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

Another couple minutes passed before Spencer spoke again.

“It’s just like Maeve all over again,” Spencer whispered.

Morgan furrowed his brow in confusion, “How is this like what happened with Maeve?”

“I did everything right. Followed all the proper steps and the end result was still a disaster,” he explained, “With Maeve I followed all the protocols step-by-step when it comes to dealing with and talking down stalkers and she still died. With my son, I knew I couldn’t take good care of him so I gave him to someone I believed could and he ended up being abused for most of his life. Abused so badly that he became a serial killer to get back at me for giving him away, resulting in nine lives lost, four of which were babies that hadn’t even been born yet.”

Morgan sighed sadly, “I know, but sometimes we can do everything right and it all still goes to hell.”

“So then what’s the point of doing everything right when, even if you do, it doesn’t matter?”

“Because no matter what the outcome is, doing the right thing is still the best thing we can do.”

Spencer looked over at him, but it was clear the man was struggling to believe him. They fell silent again as Spencer turned back to stare out the window.

“You know I never even held him?” Spencer spoke up, “When he was born, they offered to let me hold before they took him away, but I said no.”

“Why?”

“Because I was afraid if I did, I’d never be able to let go,” he admitted.

“Do you regret it?”

Spencer looked down at where his one hand was picking the nails on the other, “Yes. I regret not holding him that day. I never did before, but now that I know what happened to him, I wish desperately that I’d given in and held him. Because I know if I had, I never would’ve allowed them to take him from me.”

Morgan could practically see the weight of his guilt crushing him as he sat there.

“Do you also regret taking up Gideon’s offer to join the BAU?” Derek asked sincerely.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Derek, “No...”

“Ever regret getting your gender affirming surgeries done?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Regret finishing school with no less than three doctorate degrees and two bachelor’s degrees?”

“No.”

“How about becoming godfather to Henry?”

“No.”

“If you had kept Paul, you never would’ve been able to do any of those things,” Morgan reached out to take hold of Spencer’s hands that were now resting in his lap, “At the very least, not while you were so young.”

“I could’ve stopped-“

“Nuh-uh,” Derek cut him off, “What happened to him is not your fault. Would his life have been better if he’d stayed with you? Maybe, I’m not denying that. What I am saying is that you need to stop blaming yourself for things you can’t control.”

“What if I could’ve stopped him from killing all those women?” Spencer asked, his voice shaking.

“You know as well as I do that if he had psychopathic tendencies when he was born, there would’ve always been a chance for him to turn into a killer. Growing up with you instead of them wouldn’t have changed that. It likely would’ve only affected what type of victims he went after.”

Spencer scoffed, rolling his eyes and taking his hands back from Derek’s grasp, “Thanks. It’s comforting to know that no matter what I would’ve done my son still would’ve turned into a murderer.”

Derek closed his eyes as he sighed, “I’m sorry. All I was trying to point out was that even if you had sacrificed your own life to care for him, it still could’ve had the same result. It’s just instead of accomplishing your dreams, you’d be stuck living a life you never wanted.”

“I’ll probably still end up with a life I don’t want,” he mumbled staring out the window.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me,” Spencer asked as he looked over at Morgan, “Who in their right mind would want to start a family with me knowing that my mother has schizophrenia--a mental illness that is genetically passed--and my son is a serial killer? Who the  _ hell _ would choose  _ me _ as a good partner to have a baby with?”

Derek stared at Spencer for a minute, weighing his options, before blurting out, “I would.”


	12. Admissions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence. Implied/referenced past rape/non-con

“I would.”

Spencer stared at Morgan in shock. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. His brain, that normally functioned faster than the speed of light, came to a full stop at those words.

“What?” he practically squeaked.

Derek chuckled lightly, “You asked who would be interested in having a family with you. All I did was answer honestly.”

Spencer was certain his ears were playing tricks on him.

“Do... Do you really mean that?” he asked, very much scared of the answer, “Or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

“I really mean it,” Derek promised.

“Wh-why? You should know better than anyone how messed up-”

“Because I love you,” Derek cut him off, looking Spencer directly in the eye, “I’ve been in love with you for years, pretty boy.”

Spencer just stared at the older man in shock. Every time he tried to speak, no words came out. He probably looked like a fish gasping for air. A few moments passed and Spencer could see Derek’s confidence slowly start to fade.

“Spencer,” he pleaded, “please say something.”

Realizing it was now or never, Spencer followed in Derek’s footsteps and blurted out, “I love you, too.”

Spencer watched as Morgan’s face morphed from one of apprehension to one of pure joy. A wide smile split the older man’s face as soon as Spencer spoke those three words. He reached back over to Spencer and took one of his hands in his.

He held it tightly as he spoke, “I’m so happy to hear that, pretty boy. I have wanted to hear those words for so long now.”

“How long?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious.

Morgan spoke sincerely, “I knew I cared deeply for you the day you got kidnapped by Hankel, but I didn’t fully realize that I loved you until the anthrax incident. Being stuck on the other side of that glass, watching you slowly get sicker and not being able to help in any way, nearly killed me.”

“I knew for sure when I found out that you’d driven off in that ambulance. I wanted to hit you and kiss you at the same time,” Spencer replied, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks accompanied by a smile.

“Man, we are idiots,” Morgan laughed, “Both of us secretly in love with each other, but too scared to say it for over five years.”

“I didn’t even know you liked men,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, at first I was actively hiding it, but after counseling and finally dealing with what happened to me as a kid, I stopped caring so much. It just never really came up in our line of work,” he explained, “To be fair, I didn’t know you were bi either.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, “I thought everyone figured it out after that case in New Orleans, where JJ first met Will.”

“Why would we have figured it out back then?”

“Well, at least Gideon did,” Spencer supplied, “He found me at a bar where I was watching my ex-boyfriend sing. When you all arrived later for a night out, I assumed you’d all figured it out by how comfortable I was with him."

“Ethan is your ex?”

Spencer nodded, “We went to college together. I dated him for 24 days when we were twenty-one. He broke it off when I refused to have sex with him. More specifically, he left when, after repeatedly telling him no, I also refused to tell him _why_ I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.”

“It was a long time ago, Derek. Besides, we remained good friends afterwards. I still go see him whenever we’re in New Orleans.”

The two fell quiet, just basking in their shared happiness at knowing the other reciprocated their feelings for a moment.

“Spencer?” Derek asked softly, rubbing the back of Spencer’s hand.

“Hmm?” he hummed back.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he explained, “Can I kiss you, pretty boy?”

Spencer smiled and pushed off the armrest of the couch to lean towards Derek, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Derek gave him a matching smile before leaning in himself. One of Derek’s hands let go of Spencer’s and reach up to caress the side of his face as they got closer. Spencer felt his eyes slip closed as their lips met. It was a relatively short, yet sweet kiss and Derek’s lips somehow felt even better than he’d imagined.

After breaking apart, they both stared into the other’s eyes for a moment before Derek’s hand pulled him back in for more. It took a second, but their lips eventually synced up with each other as they moved. Derek’s kissing style was strong, yet equally gentle and Spencer had no issue with letting him take control. Until Derek started to pull away, that is.

Not wanting the kiss to end, Spencer lifted himself up with his legs and leaned over Morgan, chasing after him. His one free hand moved from his lap to Derek’s shoulder, gripping him tight as he pulled himself over the older agent. Derek chuckled at his actions, but allowed him to lean down and continue kissing him. Finding the position of his body a little awkward, Spencer made the risky decision to straddle the man’s lap. He didn’t sit down on him, he just braced his knees on either side of the older man’s hips.

Derek let go of his hand in favor of wrapping his arms around Spencer’s back, but they never dipped below his belt. Spencer, in turn, looped one of his long arms around Derek’s neck while the other rested half on his jaw and half on his neck, gently caressing his face. Spencer tilted his head to deepen the kiss and Derek groaned softly into the kiss causing him to smile gently against his lips.

Derek licked Spencer’s lips, silently asking for permission to enter his mouth. Spencer happily obliged and moaned as Derek’s tongue entered his mouth. They battled for dominance for a few seconds before Spencer once again happily submitted to his partner. Derek tasted like rich, dark coffee and chocolate, everything Spencer would normally associate with the man. Eventually, Spencer broke the kiss for the sake of breathing and rested his forehead against Derek’s, their panting breaths mingling together.

“God damn, baby,” Derek breathed harshly, “If you keep kissing me like that, you’re going to start something I don’t think either of us are ready for.”

Spencer groaned, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, “And I thought I liked it when you call me pretty boy.”

Derek smirked and whispered against the small man’s throat, “What? You like me calling you baby? Huh, baby boy?”

Spencer’s groan turned into a surprised gasp as Derek started planting kisses down the side of his neck. Needing his lips back on his own, Spencer used his hands to push Derek back just enough for him to reconnect their lips. The darker agent groaned softly, his hands rubbing up and down Spencer’s back. His hands eventually settled onto Spencer’s hips and gently guided him down to sit on the top of his legs. He then pulled Spencer’s torso closer until their chests were pressed against each other. Their kissing continued undisturbed until Derek’s phone started ringing on the desk.

The two jumped apart at hearing it before both sighing in resignation knowing it was probably Hotch calling about Paul. The romantic mood was broken as all Spencer’s current anxieties flooded back to the forefront of his mind. He quickly extracted himself from Derek’s embrace to let him get up and grab the phone.

“Morgan,” he said as he answered the call.

Whatever was being said on the other end of the line couldn’t be good based on how his demeanor changed. A few seconds ago he’d been relaxed and happy. Now his shoulders were tense and he was frowning.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, JJ” he sighed, his hand raising to rub his head.

Spencer had a bad feeling about what was coming next.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him,” Morgan said as he finished the call.

Spencer could read his hesitation in every cell of his body. Morgan did not want to tell him what the phone call had been about.

“Derek,” he asked, standing up slowly and making his way over to him, “What did JJ say?”

Derek sighed and looked over at him. Spencer could see the sad sympathy in his gaze.

“It’s about the babies,” Derek explained, “Paul is claiming Mary’s baby is still alive. He’s got a video of her crying on his phone. No way to figure out where she is from the video, though. It’s too dark and there aren’t any distinguishing features.”

Spencer’s jaw dropped in shock, “Are you serious?”

“Yes, but they didn’t find them at Paul’s apartment or at his parent’s house. To back up the claim more, Garcia found receipts for baby formula and diapers charged to his debit card.”

“Do we have any leads?”

“No. The team’s been trying to get that information out of him for the last twenty minutes. He’s demanding to speak with you again. He says he won’t tell anyone where the baby is except you.”

Spencer felt his heart drop down into his stomach.

“Why?” he wondered, “He wanted to kill me back at the house and now he wants to see me again?”

“It’s probably a game to him. He wants to hurt you as much as possible. He knows that forcing you to interrogate him on the location of a missing baby is definitely going to hurt.”

Spencer swallowed harshly, “You’ll be in the room with me, right?”

“Of course, baby,” Derek whispered as he pulled Spencer into a tight hug, “Anything you need.”

“Thank you,” Spencer replied quietly “And let’s not tell the team about what happened between us just yet.”

“Agreed. Let’s finish this case and go home. Then we can really explore this.”

Spencer smiled softly, but he couldn’t bring himself to be very lighthearted at the moment. Soon he was going to once again talk face-to-face with Paul while he held a baby hostage, again. Spencer could not afford to fail this time. If this baby really is alive and they lose it because he can’t figure out how to get into his son’s mind, it’s going to destroy him.

* * *

As soon as Spencer set foot in the police station, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He self-consciously wrapped his arms around his middle and ducked his head as he made a beeline for their conference room. Derek closed the door behind him but he could still feel eyes on him. This time, however, they weren’t the eyes of strangers, but of his own team. Spencer flexed his fingers as his already frayed nerves vibrated with anxiety once again. He knew the kinds of questions they needed to ask in order to do their jobs and he really didn’t want to answer them. He’d already told Morgan most of it, but he knew it was important the whole team knew everything.

“Spencer?” JJ approached him first, “How are you holding up?”

“Okay, I guess,” he responded, “I’ll be better when this is all over and I have time to process it.”

She nodded, “You realize what we need to ask you, right?”

He swallowed thickly, his senses reaching out to listen for Derek behind him for support, “Yeah, go ahead.”

Hotch started, “Who’s Paul’s biological father?”

“Dr. Jared Edwards, my chemistry professor at Caltech University.”

“What was the nature of the relationship?”

Spencer felt Derek walk up behind him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. Spencer was thankful for the comforting touch.

“He raped me and then used images from the rape to blackmail me into compliant victimization for months. It started on January 29th, 1996 and ended on June 12th, 1996. I got pregnant sometime in April.”

“Why did it end?”

“I went home to Las Vegas for the summer. Continuing to meet with him over the summer would’ve raised red flags. When I returned in the fall, he saw that I was pregnant. When he found out he was the father, he destroyed everything he had on me and told me never to speak to him again. He let me go so I wouldn’t turn him in.”

“Where is he now?” Prentiss asked, Spencer could see the anger in her gaze.

“He died six years ago.”

He could tell everyone in the room was disappointed by that. They’d all wanted to go after him and punish him for what he’d done. The phone on the table ringing drew everyone’s attention.

“Garcia?” Rossi said answering the call.

“I did what you asked and did a deep dive onto Paul’s history.”

Spencer really hated where this was going, “What did you find?”

There was a beat of silence then, “Oh boy wonder, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Not really in the mood anymore for discussing his feelings, he pushed forwards, “As much as I love you, Garcia, we really need to find this baby.”

“Right, of course,” she replied, shifting topics, “but, Spence, are you sure you want to hear all this stuff?”

Spencer did not like how she said that.

“I might not want to, but I need to. If I’m going to get the location of the potentially still alive baby from him, I need to be able to profile him. To do that I need all available information on him.”

“Okay,” she relented, “The first five years of Paul’s life with the Andersons seems to have been good. There weren’t any strange hospital visits during that time. It wasn’t until the father, Robert, lost his job that the mother, Rita, started making trips to the hospital for being quote, unquote clumsy.”

“Robert must’ve started drinking after losing his job. That’s when he started to abuse his family,” Rossi assumed.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Garcia continued, “This goes on for years until, when Paul was nine, Rita takes a fall down the basement steps and dies from blunt force trauma to the back of her head. It was ruled an accident by the local police, but I’m not too sure about that. After that, Robert moved him and Paul to a trailer park and Paul started getting into trouble. He would pick fights at school and around the neighborhood. Some of his female peers claimed he was sexually harassing them, but no official police reports were ever filed. One neighbor did call the cops on him after he threw rocks through their front windows. The couple didn’t end up pressing charges. This is also when he started making frequent trips to the ER for the same injuries Rita had suffered.

I did find some reports of nuisance fires in the neighborhood he lived in while his mom was alive and at the trailer park, but none of them were ever tied to Paul. I also found a couple of reports spanning 2008-2011, right after that car accident that crushed his leg, of animals going missing in his neighborhood, four over a three year period. Again, none of these were tied to Paul, but one of them was his next door neighbor’s new labrador puppy. It was found two days later mutilated in a dumpster. Cops never figured out who did it.”

The more Spencer listened to the happenings in the areas his son grew up in, the more he realized that Derek was right. His son had been born a psychopath. It’s true the abusive environment he grew up had exacerbated his condition, but even if he’d grown up in a loving home, he still could’ve been triggered to kill at some point in his life.

“He started a job at the adoption agency when he was fifteen as a janitor. Looks like Robert signed the release to allow him to do that. He eventually moved up to actually helping customers about three months ago. Then, one month ago is when his behavior there became erratic and violent. He was quickly terminated.”

Spencer sighed, “Psychopaths can fake emotion when they need to, but when pushed they’ll lash out. He probably only got the job at the adoption agency to find out who I was. Once he did, there wasn’t any reason for him to maintain the facade anymore. I made sure it was a closed adoption, but he probably just hacked the file like Garica did.”

“Okay, but he got access to the computers three months ago. Why did he only start killing a month ago?” Morgan asked.

“I was wondering that too,” Rossi spoke up, “Also, his crimes--the ones committed before Reid became involved--showed a level of sophistication that we don’t normally see in with time killers. Most serial killers start out by killing high risk victims. So, where are his?”

“You don’t think the animals were enough practice?” JJ asked, praying there weren’t any more of his victims still out there.

“No, I don’t. Remember Toby Whitewood? He started with animals too, but his first human kill was still sloppy and inexperienced. It wasn’t until his mentor, David Turner, started showing him what to do that he got good at it.”

“Please don’t tell me my son has killed more people than the victims we already know about,” Spencer begged, but he knew it was starting to look very unlikely.

“And why would a psychopath keep a baby?” Prentiss wondered, “Psychopaths only see people for what they can get from them.”

“He’s using the baby as a bargaining chip to get me to see Spence again. So, could he really have done all this to draw him out here? Then, when one of the babies survived, he decided to keep it so he had a card to play that would ensure he got what he wanted?” JJ asked them, but nobody really had an answer.

A knock on the door had them all turning around. Detective Hopkins entered the room with a grim look on his face.

“What is it detective?” Hotch asked, and Spencer feared the answer.

“We just ran Paul’s DNA through our system and he lit it up light a christmas tree,” the detective revealed, intentionally not looking in Reid’s direction, “We’re now able to link him to eight unsolved homicides over the past four years. First one was in December 2011, two in 2012, two more in 2013, and then three in 2014. All of the victims were women who lived high risk lifestyles.”

Spencer felt sicker the more the cop spoke. He leaned against Derek in an attempt to ground himself.

“Well, there are those high risk victims I was looking for,” Rossi sighed, not happy about being right.

“How were they killed?” Hotch inquired.

“Their throats were slashed and it’s possible they were all raped. It was hard to tell with the prostitues if he hired them for sex before killing them or not. But his semen was found at every single crime scene.”

After hearing that, Spencer didn’t even think about it, he just bolted. He ran past the cop and went straight for the restroom. He could faintly hear who he assumed was Morgan chasing after him, but he couldn’t stop. He made it to the men’s restroom and, ignoring the number of germs present in a public bathroom, he vomited into the nearest toilet. He heard the door open and close behind him before being locked.

“Spencer?” he heard Derek call out softly to him.

After flushing the toilet, unsure whether or not he was done, he sat on the floor and leaned back against the stall door. He looked up to see Derek standing in the doorway of the stall.

“I can’t believe he’s a rapist, too,” Spencer spoke, his voice void of emotion.

He’d officially reached his breaking point. He knew he had to shut all of his emotions away until this case was over or he was going to lose it. For the rest of this case he wouldn’t allow himself to cry or scream. He needed to be clinical about all of this because once he let himself go, he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” Morgan said as he squatted down to Spencer’s level, “You think you can still do this?”

“I have to,” he resolved, wiping at his mouth, “I’ve lost my son. I will not lose Mary’s baby.”

Knowing not to push, Derek stood and held his hands out for Spencer to take. He pulled him up from the floor and let him over to the sinks where he rinsed out his mouth and washed his hands.

“I really want to stop throwing up,” he mumbled, “It makes me feel so gross.”

“You threw up on this case before just now?”

“Yeah, yesterday at Beving’s house. I threw up in his garden while Rossi was arresting him.”

Derek didn’t say anything else, he just wrapped his arms around Spencer and pulled him close. Spencer allowed himself this moment to rest his head on Derek’s chest and feel safe and protected from what he was going to have to do in that interrogation room. Derek reached into his back pocket and produced a small pack of gum. Spencer was immensely thankful to have something to get the rest of the nasty aftertaste out of his mouth.

“Okay,” Derek said as they separated, “Let’s go find this baby.”


	13. Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of past rape/non-con. Transphobia. Graphic descriptions of violence.

Once he felt a little more stable, Spencer made his way back to the conference room. On the way there, however, he passed by the family waiting room. Inside he noticed Mary’s mother, Jean Pickett, sitting by herself on the couch. She looked frazzled and her eyes were puffy and red.

Seeing her waiting there for news of her grandchild, despite having been told that the child was a product of statutory rape, made Spencer desperate to find the baby for her. They knew now that she’d been aware of Mary’s desire to put the baby up for adoption, but with her only daughter now gone, Spencer could understand why she would want the baby. It was all she would have left of her.

Spencer entered the conference room and ignored all the concerned stares pointed his way.

“Is there anything else relevant I need to know?” he asked in a neutral tone, locking all of his emotions away for now.

“I don’t think so,” Hotch replied, “But if we learn anything new, we’ll let you know immediately.”

“Okay. Where is he?”

“Interrogation room 2,” the detective supplied.

Spencer nodded, “Thank you.”

He left the room, Morgan following close behind him. Any other case and Spencer would’ve snapped at him for turning into his own personal shadow, but this time he was thankful for the man’s overprotective instincts. They were helping him keep level while his entire world spun out of control.

They entered the room and he spit the gum out into a trashcan. He didn’t want the distraction while trying to profile his son. As he turned towards the glass, he stopped dead upon seeing his son in handcuffs and chained to the desk. He walked up to the glass and observed him. He could see the subtle similarities between them. Their facial structure was very similar and they had the same hair color, but his eyes were piercingly blue. He’d noticed just how much they looked like Edwards’ back at the house, but now he could really see the similarities. They both had the same cold stare. It was paralyzing.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand on the center of his back. He glanced over and met the dark eyes of Derek Morgan. They were soft and kind, staring at him like he was the only person in the world. Knowing they were alone, Spencer reached over and pulled him into a brief kiss.

“To keep me steady,” he whispered to Derek and the man smiled.

“And this one,” Derek whispered back, pulling him into another chaste kiss, “is to remind you no matter what happens in there, I will always love you.”

Spencer couldn’t help the tiny smile that managed to break out onto his face before he looked back into the room and it disappeared. He took a deep breath and let them both into the room. Paul’s eyes immediately snapped up to focus on Spencer. The stare made him shudder uncomfortably. Spencer pulled out the chair across from Paul and sat down. Derek sat next to Spencer.

“I wanted to speak to you alone,” Paul snapped, glaring at Morgan.

Derek spoke very matter-of-factly, “You tried to kill him at the house. I’m just here to make sure you don’t try that shit again.”

Paul glared at him, but decided against pushing the matter.

“Paul-” Spencer started, but he was cut off.

“Liam,” he insisted, leaning back in his chair, “My name is Liam.”

Spencer swallowed harshly, “Okay, Liam. I’m here now. You promised to tell me where Mary’s baby is.”

“Mary?”

“The second woman you killed.”

“The drug addict?”

“The second _pregnant_ woman you killed,’ Spencer specified.

“Oh right,” Liam sneered, “I never bothered to learn their names.”

“Where is her baby?” he asked again.

“I really liked it when they begged,” Liam continued, ignoring the question, “They’d beg not for their lives, but for their babies lives.”

Spencer folded his hands together and forced himself not to react.

“Is there a point to this?”

Liam’s eyes narrowed, “Did you beg to keep me when I was born?”

Spencer shook his head since there was no point in lying, “No. I gave you up willingly.”

The young man leaned forward, the chains on his wrists running across the table, “Did you ever even hold me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was afraid-”

Liam slammed his fist against the table and Spencer barely contained his flinch.

“You were afraid?” he hissed, “What about me? Don’t you think I was afraid when Roger would lock me in the hidden cellar out back and not let me out for days? I’d have to sit down there, hidden under the damp, cool earth with the spiders and wait for him to come back and let me out. If I cried, he’d beat me until I couldn’t walk. After he gave me this scar on my face, I learned not to scream.”

Spencer, squeezed his hands together, “I’m so sorry that happened to you.

“You should be sorry!” he shouted, “You’re the one who put me there.”

“Liam,” Spencer pleaded, “I need you to tell me where the baby is.”

“Why should I? You’re just going to abandon this one, too.”

“No, the baby will go to their grandmother to be raised. It won’t be going into the system.”

Liam glared at his mother, “And why wasn’t that an option for me? What could you give me to another family member to raise?”

“I don’t have any family outside my Mom and she has schizophrenia. She lives in a full time care facility. She has since I was 18.”

“She chose that?”

Spencer swallowed hard, “No, I made her go. She needed help and I wasn’t enough anymore.”

“Well then,” Liam scoffed, “At least I can rest easy knowing I’m not the only family member you abandoned.”

“In both cases, I did what I believed to be best.”

“What _you_ believed to be best,” Liam snapped at him, “I’ll bet you justify those decisions to yourself real easy by reminding yourself that you’re so smart that if there was another option, you’d have figured it out.”

“I do consider myself to be intelligent, but that doesn’t mean I always make the right choices.”

“Clearly,” he chuckled, “I mean look at you. A woman playing at being a man.”

Spencer couldn’t control his expression this time. His eyes widened and lips parted in shock. He hadn’t expected Liam to attack him for being transgender. He remembered everything he’d yelled in that house, but he’d honestly believed he’d only said that stuff because he was in pain and angry. Spencer forced himself to school his face back to neutral and he reached over under the table to squeeze Derek’s thigh to let him know he was okay.

“I am a man,” Spencer affirmed and Liam laughed.

“But that is not what we’re here to talk about,” Spencer continued, “Tell me where the baby is or I am going to walk out of here right now.”

Liam stared at him and then licked his lips, “I want to play a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“I want details,” Liam practically whispered, a cruel edge to his tone.

“Details of what?” Spencer asked.

“I want to know about the things my father did to you.”

Spencer felt himself go ridged. He hadn’t even revealed to Morgan the details of what his professor had done to him.

“I can’t give you those details,” Spencer replied, shaking his knee to help keep himself calm.

“Then I guess that little girl will die. She was still so tiny when I cut her out of her mommy. The mommy screamed and screamed as I cut her open, but I didn’t stop. She sounded so good like that. I recorded those screams. I liked using them to get off later.”

“Did you record the screams of the prostitutes and drug addicts you killed as well?”

Liam chuckled, “Not at first, but by the third one, yeah. I would bring along a little tape recorder and capture their terror. The fifth one screamed so good when I took her. I would listen to her on loop for hours.”

Spencer accepted the small victory of knowing what his trophies were so that they could be located and used as evidence if necessary.

Liam’s wistful demeanor turned stone cold in the blink of an eye as he asked, “Tell me, Mom, did my daddy ever make _you_ scream?”

Spencer couldn’t help it, he stood abruptly and left the room, Derek close on his heels. He could hear his son’s laughter as the door swung shut. Derek immediately pulled him into a hug and let Spencer bury his face in his shirt.

“He’s just like his father,” Spencer whispered against the older agent’s shirt, “His father used to record the assaults and take pictures of me afterwards. I know he liked to look at them when I wasn’t immediately available to him.”

Derek rubbed his hands up and down Spencer’s back in an attempt to soothe him. The door opened and Hotch walked in.

“Reid, are you okay?” Hotch asked.

Spencer pushed away from Derek and shook his head, “No, but I can’t stop, Hotch. I can’t let that baby die because I don’t want to talk about what happened to me.”

“I won’t lie and tell you that we can find the baby without you doing this. The team still at his house just found the cellar he described, but it was empty.”

Spencer sighed, “Just promise me that nobody outside our team hears any of what I might need to say.”

“I promise. I’ll have everyone except our team clear out.”

“And don’t let Penelope listen,” he added, “I don’t want her to have to hear any of what I might have to say. She has a hard enough time dealing with some of the stuff that happens to strangers.”

“Okay,” Hotch nodded, “We’ll do our best to shield her from the worst of it.”

“Thank you,” Spencer replied, and he looked over at Morgan, “I’m ready to go back in.”

The older man nodded and opened the door for them to return to the interrogation.

“Here’s the deal,” Spencer said, an emotionless mask in place as he sat back down across from his son, “For each hint you give me, I will answer one question. You cannot ask me to elaborate and you cannot change your question after you’ve asked it even if I don’t give you the exact answer you want. I will, however, answer each question honestly.”

Liam leaned forward and threaded his fingers together, “Deal, but I get to ask the questions first before I give you a hint.”

Spencer took a deep breath and agreed, “Fine. But if you at any point give us incorrect information, the interview will stop and someone else from my team will come back in here. You will never see me again.”

“Okay then,” Liam smiled and drummed his hands on the table, “I want to start off with my original question. Did my daddy ever make you scream? And I don’t mean in pleasure.”

Spencer could feel his jaw tense up, “Yes. Now give me a hint.”

“First, you’ll need to turn right,” was all he said.

Spencer curled his hands into fists, but it was technically a hint. He just hoped they could figure out where the starting point was.

“Next question,” Liam continued, “Were you a virgin when he first took you?”

“Yes.”

He licked his lips and smiled, “Now take a left.”

“Are you going to tell me where the starting point is for these directions or how far between each turn?” Spencer asked, though he severely doubted that Liam would make it that easy.

Sure enough, the boy chuckled, “Come on, that would make it too easy. I thought a woman like you would enjoy a challenge.”

Spencer bit his tongue and dug his nails into his palms at the comment, but refused to take the bait. He could feel the anger radiating from Derek, but Spencer willed him not to respond.

“Next question,” Spencer bit out.

“Ooh, getting testy,” Liam licked his lips, “You have an eidetic memory, so I want to know _exactly_ how many times he fucked you.”

Spencer flinched at the harsh wording, “I don’t know.”

Liam snarled at him, “You don’t answer the question truthfully and I’m done playing. That little girl will starve and it’ll be all your fault.”

Spencer closed his eyes as he admitted, “I’m telling the truth. I don’t know the exact number because sometimes he would drug me and have sex with me while I was unconscious.”

Liam smiled at that piece of information.

“Looks like I got a freebie,” he smirked, “But since you don’t know the exact number, give me an estimate.”

“I told you when we started that you couldn’t alter the question after it’s been asked. You asked me how many times _exactly_ he had penetrative intercourse with me, not an estimate.”

His nostrils flared in anger at being duped, “Fine. Turn right.”

“Question?”

“What was his favorite thing to do to you?”

Spencer felt Morgan’s hand find its way to his knee, gently squeezing. Spencer closed his eyes and focused on the calming touch as he answered the question.

“His favorite thing to do was to blindfold me and put earplugs in my ears. After that, he’d tie me up and leave me somewhere in his house for hours, periodically coming back to use me again. He never did it in regular intervals so, even with my mathematical prowess, I never knew when he was going to come back and hurt me.”

Liam practically cackled with glee, “Wow, Jared was a genius.”

Spencer’s eyes snapped open when he said that, “I never told you who your father was.”

He noticed the flicker of panic in Liam’s eyes as he realized what he’d said.

Liam cleared his throat and tried to play it off, “It was in the adoption file.”

“We’ll be right back,” Spencer told him absentmindedly as he grabbed Morgan’s shoulder and led him out of the room.

“Spencer, what is it?” Derek asked, his confusion clear on his face as he closed the door.

“He knows who his biological father is.”

“So?”

“Edwards’ name isn’t on any of the files. I made sure never to mention his name to anyone during or after my pregnancy. The only way he could’ve found out who his father was is if he got a DNA test done.”

Morgan picked up his phone and called Garcia, “Baby girl, can you see if Paul had a DNA test done to find his father?”

“Uh, give me a mo... yes,” she replied, “He had a DNA test three months ago, he got the results back about a month and a half ago.”

“But we already confirmed that he hacked into the files three months ago. Why did he need a DNA test when he already knew who his mother was?”

“Easy, he wasn’t looking for Spencer. He was looking for his father.”

“Thank you, sweetness. Call you later if we need anything else,” he said as he hung up.

Spencer could feel his mind spinning out at lightning speed, putting pieces together as fast as he could.

“This whole time we’ve been thinking this is about me, but it’s not,” Spencer realized, “This is about his father. He thinks I prevented him from having a relationship with him by giving him up. That’s why he’s so angry at me. He views women as weak because his mom never stood up against her husband, so why would he want to seek out his biological mother? In his mind, I’m just as weak as Rita. But he hates Robert, so he went looking for his real father only to discover he died six years ago.”

“Okay,” Morgan replied, “but why start killing people?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer huffed, “He’s a psychopath. He sees people only for what he can get from them. He couldn’t easily get to me since I’m an FBI agent living on the other side of the country, but he could get to all these women. He knew that if started killing lower risk victims, he would get on our radar a lot faster. He drew me out here to learn about his father.”

Hotch opened the door and walked in, “What is it?”

Spencer looked over at his boss, “We were wrong. This isn’t about his relationship with me. It’s about his relationship with his father.”

“Robert?”

“Edwards,” he shook his head, “They are very similar. If he had questions about where his urges came from, he would look to his genetics, his biological history, for answers. When he realized that I’m an FBI agent, he must’ve assumed the deviant fantasies came from his father. His trigger was finding out his biological father is dead.”

Hotch nodded, “He’s spent his whole life looking for approval from his father and never receiving it. Knowing he was adopted gave him another shot at a father-son relationship. But with Edwards dead, all hope for that was lost. He couldn’t ask him for answers about himself or his compulsions.”

“The place he’s hiding the baby has to be connected to Edwards,” Morgan realized, “Spencer, is there any place he would take you?”

“His house, but I doubt it’s vacant,” Spencer replied, “It was a nice house in a good neighborhood.”

“But it could be our starting point,” Hotch deduced, “I’ll have Garcia start running simulations for those directions starting at Edwards’ old house.”

Spencer nodded, “But the directions aren’t complete and we don’t have enough information to figure it out ourselves yet. I have to go back in.”

Derek squeezed his shoulder, “I know this is hard, but we’re almost done.”

“I’ll let you know if we find anything,” Hotch said before leaving the room.

Spencer took a deep breath and re-entered the room.

“What was all that about?” Liam asked, cocking his head to the side.

“We know what this is all about,” Spencer replied, “None of this was about me, not really. It’s about your father.”

Liam rolled his eyes, “Of course it’s about my father. Women are weak and worthless. Only true men have the capability to do the things I’ve done.”

“But why did you think finding Edwards would solve all your problems? On paper he was just a normal college professor. Nobody except for me knew about how deviant he really was.”

Liam smiled, “You don’t know everything about him.”

“Really? What don’t I know?”

The boy shook his finger at him and clicked his tongue, “That is not how the game works. I ask the questions here.”

“Then ask,” Spencer snapped.

He knew he was missing something, but he just couldn’t figure out what.

“What was he like? You know, when you weren’t having sex.”

“He could be witty and charming when he wanted to be. That’s how he managed to lower my guard at first, pretending to care about me as his student. However, as soon as he had me under his thumb, he turned cold and distant. He was also arrogant and impulsive. I realized years later that he was most likely a sociopath.”

“And I’m apparently a psychopath,” Liam smiled, “I guess I do get all this from my dad. Take a right.”

Spencer silently mapped the route in his head, trying to recall everything he could about the area despite not having the distances between each turn.

Liam leaned forward to ask another question, “Are there any pictures or videos of what he did to you?”

“No, not anymore. He destroyed them all.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Spencer felt his blood run cold at the question.

The boy dropped his voice low and whispered menacingly, “Cause damn Mom, you sure do look good in red lace.”


	14. Racing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied/Referenced past rape/non-con

Spencer’s jaw dropped and horror filled his face, “You’re lying.”

Liam started laughing, a crazed manic laughter.

“You son of a bitch!” Derek shouted as he rose up and lunged for Liam, his chair shooting back against the wall.

“No!” Spencer shouted and grabbed Morgan’s arm and wrenched it back away from his son, “You can’t!”

Liam only laughed louder, enjoying the show. Spencer used all his strength, aided by the fact that Morgan didn’t want to hurt him, to push the older man away from the table.

“Derek! There are cameras in here,” he reminded him, his fists clenched tight in Morgan’s shirt.

Derek’s breathing slowed slightly, but Spencer could still see the fire in his eyes.

“Please!” Spencer begged, “If you hit him, he could press charges against you. You could be fired, please don’t do this. It’s not worth it.”

“Defending you will always be worth it to me,” he replied, but his rage was slowly morphing into a seething anger.

“I know and I love you for that, but I do not want to risk losing you from this team,” he whispered, ignoring the fact that they weren’t alone, “Do not give the brass a reason to fire you.”

Derek relented and wrapped his arms around the younger man, “I’m sorry Spencer, I wasn’t thinking about any of the consequences.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, the door to the interrogation room burst open and Hotch stormed in. Spencer could see the anger in his posture immediately.

“This interview is over,” he stated firmly, “Reid, Morgan, go back to the conference room. We think we know enough to find her without him.”

Derek looped his arm around Spencer’s back and guided the dazed man towards the conference room. He could feel his slight tremors and his heart broke for him all over again. They made it back to where they’re team had been watching. None of them said anything about what they’d witnessed. Hotch joined them not long after.

“Reid, are you sure there were no photos left in Edwards’ house?” Hotch asked him, already back in work mode.

“Yes, short of pulling up the floorboards, I scoured every inch of that house to make sure they were all gone,” Spencer replied, still in complete shock.

“What if he had back-ups somewhere else?” Rossi asked, “Like at a friend’s house or storage unit.”

If possible, Derek saw Spencer pale even more at the suggestion that people other than Edwards had copies of the pictures. Hotch pressed a button on the table’s phone and Garcia answered seconds later.

“Is the baby safe?” she asked immediately.

“Not yet, Garcia,” Hotch replied, “Can you find out if Edwards had a storage unit in the general direction of the hints Paul gave us?”

They all waited patiently as she searched.

“Yes, there is,” she replied, “Edwards had a self storage unit there until he died. After that, the payments were taken over by his sister, Penny Trent.”

“We need to talk to the sister and see if she recognizes Liam, I mean Paul,” Spencer corrected himself.

Hotch nodded, “JJ and Rossi, go speak with Mrs. Trent. The rest of us will go to the storage unit.”

They all quickly split up to go get ready. Derek made to leave to go get his vest, but he was stopped by Spencer grabbing his arm. Spencer kept quiet until they were alone in the room, alerting Derek to the fact that something was wrong.

“Pretty boy, what is it?” he asked him.

“When we get there, please don’t go inside the unit,” Spencer begged him, his eyes pleading.

“Why not?”

Spencer took a shaky breath, “Because if there really are pictures of me in there, I don’t want you to see them.”

“Baby, nothing I find there is going to change how I see and feel about you,” he reassured him, placing his hands on both of Spencer’s upper arms.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Spencer dropped his gaze to look at the floor, “I don’t want you to see me like that before...”

Morgan realized what Spencer was implying.

“That’s not how you want me to see all of you for the first time.”

The young agent nodded his head, “In those pictures, I’m being forced to do things that I didn’t want to do. I’m scared and in a lot of pain in every single one. Not to mention my body was still pre-transition at that point. Is it wrong that I don’t want you to see me like that?”

Morgan knew how important this was to Spencer. He didn’t want Derek’s first view of his body to be in pictures taken by his rapist. He wanted everything intimate between them to remain untainted by what had happened to him as a teenager. Derek could completely understand that, so he gave into Spencer’s request.

“No, baby, it’s not,” he agreed, pulling the smaller man into a warm hug, “When we get there, I won’t go inside. I’ll hang back and cover the outside.”

“Thank you.” Spencer whispered, burying his head in Derek’s neck, “I never want you to see me like that.”

The two broke apart when Hotch knocked on the open door to get their attention.

“I get it baby, trust me,” he replied softly, “But we do need to go. There might be a little girl waiting on us to save her.”

Spencer nodded and pulled away from the embrace, “And then we can go home.”

“And then we can go home,” Morgan reiterated in agreement.

* * *

Rossi walked up the steps to Mrs. Trent’s house and didn’t waste any time before knocking on the door. The door opened to reveal a fairly short middle aged woman. Rossi recognized the blue eyes, but hers were much kinder than Paul’s.

“Hello?” she asked, her confusion clear on her face.

JJ took the lead, “Hello ma’am, we’re with the FBI. Do you know this man?”

She held up a copy of Paul’s mug shot to show her.

“Yes, that’s my nephew, Paul. What’s happened?”

“May we come inside?” Rossi asked politely.

“Of course,” she said stepping out of the way to allow them entry.

She quickly showed them to her living room. Once they were all seated, Rossi began to explain why they were there.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but a few hours ago we arrested and charged your nephew with multiple counts of murder, rape, kidnapping, and feticide.”

“What?” she gasped in shock, “You must’ve made some kind of mistake. Paul would never do anything like that.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. We’ve got more than enough evidence to convict him. He’s also confessed.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry, but through careful analysis of Paul’s behavior, we’ve diagnosed him as a psychopath. He did all this to get back at his birth mother for putting him up for adoption,” JJ explained, “He blames his mother for denying him a relationship with his biological father. Did Paul ever ask about Edwards?”

“All the time,” she revealed, still in shock, “But my brother and I weren’t very close. He was alway rather mean to me growing up, so naturally we drifted apart. The only reason I kept up with the rent on the storage unit for all these years was so that I didn’t have to go through it.”

“Did you give Paul access to that storage unit?” Rossi asked.

“Yes. I thought it would be a good way for him to really get to know his father.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about paying for or cleaning out that storage unit anymore,” JJ said, rubbing her hands together nervously.

“Why not?”

“We think that’s where he committed his last few murders,” Rossi explained, “The FBI will most likely be confiscating everything inside the unit until it can be processed. Any evidentiary items will remain in the hands of the FBI. Everything else can either be returned to you, or thrown out.”

“Why do you need to take everything?”

JJ glanced over at Rossi before pushing forward.

“Ma’am, we also have reason to believe that your brother kept child pornography in his storage unit.”

“What?!” She yelled, her hand shooting up to cover her heart, “My brother wasn’t a pedophile.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Rossi confirmed, “but he did have a predilection for underage teenage girls. Paul’s mother was 15 when they gave birth to him. They were a student in his chemistry class.”

The woman covered her mouth and closed her eyes looking like she was going to be sick. After a moment, she looked over at a picture of her brother hanging on the wall. In it Edwards was standing surrounded by a group of students, one of which Rossi recognized as Reid. She stood up and grabbed the photo off the wall and looked down at it.

“Is she in this picture?” Mrs. Trent asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rossi confirmed, not wanting to lie to her.

“Their relationship wasn’t consensual, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Mrs. Trent took a deep breath before deciding, “All that stuff in his storage unit, throw it out. Throw it all out. I don’t want any of that stuff in my house.”

With that, she removed the picture from the frame, ripped it in half, and threw it away.

* * *

As they readied themselves to open the storage unit, Spencer was thankful that Derek kept his promise and stayed back behind the others. Spencer, however, was up at the front. He desperately needed to see that the baby was okay for himself, to know that he hadn’t been a complete failure on this case. One of the cops unlocked the door with a pick and slid the door up.

The second the door opened, they could hear a baby crying. As soon as he knew he could duck his head under the door, Spencer made his way inside. His gun was raised, but his finger wasn’t on the trigger. He immediately spotted an open cardboard box sitting in front of a fan going at high speed. Blocking out everything else, he made his way over to it and breathed a sigh of relief as he looked down at the very much still alive baby girl. Wrapped in only a blanket, she continued to scream, tears running down her face. Spencer could tell from the smell that she desperately needed her diaper changed.

“Does anyone see diapers anywhere?” he called out to the other officers, but nobody responded.

Confused, but way more focused on caring for the baby, he looked down at the ground around his feet and located a half empty box of diapers and some wet wipes. He gently lifted her out of the box and laid her down on a nearby pillow. He really didn’t want to think about how long the pillow had been in the storage unit, but he knew he needed a soft surface to lay the baby on. He’s never been so thankful that JJ taught him how to change Henry when he was a baby.

Spencer peeled off her dirty diaper and wrinkled his nose at the nasty smell before tossing it in the cardboard box he was determined never to put her back into. He cleaned her up and put on a fresh diaper as her cries quieted a bit, though not stopping completely.

“There,” he cooed softly, wrapping the baby back up in the blanket, “that should feel better. I bet you’re hungry, too. Who knows when you were last fed.”

Almost like he’d read his mind, Hotch walked over with a prepared bottle of formula. It was cold, but still safe for her to drink. And, at this point, Spencer was pretty sure she was hungry enough to drink anything. As he fed her, he lifted his gaze to finally look around the rest of the room. He quickly realized why none of the cops had responded to him at first. They were in too much shock.

His face filled with horror as he took in the pictures hanging on the walls. There were naked pictures of him everywhere. There were pictures of him passed out, pictures of when he was awake, his terrified gaze fixed on the camera. There were even pictures of him and Edwards having sex. They were most likely stills from the various videos he’d taken. In some of them he was wearing red lingerie that Liam had mentioned in the interrogation room. Edwards has made him wear it for the older man’s birthday. It was humiliating and he’d hated every second of it.

Hotch must’ve noticed his face because he told him to take the baby outside.

“I’ll make sure these photos never see the light of day,” his boss promised him before ushering him out of the storage unit.

Spencer noticed Derek watching him lovingly as he carried the baby out of the storage unit with her still happily suckling at the bottle.

“You look so natural doing that,” Derek commented as Spencer walked over to him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I mean look at her. She looks totally content to be in your arms.”

Spencer chuckled, “Of course she is right now. I have food.”

“Hold still a second,” he said, grabbing his phone, “Garcia is going to want to see this. Smile.”

Spencer shook his head at the man, but smiled down at the baby anyway as he heard the telltale click of a picture being taken. Derek continued to watch him as he fed the baby and burped her. He even laughed when Spencer went to burp her and she missed the towel they’d found for her and it landed on his neck. Spencer had glared at him good naturedly, but that had only made the older agent laugh harder.

“Can you please wipe her spit up off my neck?” he pleaded with him until Derek finally relented and used the towel to clean him up.

Shortly after a medical team arrived to take the baby. Spencer knew she needed to be checked out at the hospital, but a small part of him didn’t want to let her go. This tiny, innocent life in his hands made the hell he’d endured in that interrogation room worth it. In the end, the only reason he was able to let go was the knowledge that Mrs. Pickett would love and care for her as best she could.

“You ready to go home, pretty boy?” Derek asked him as they watched the ambulance carrying the baby leave the scene.

“Definitely,” he nodded, “but I think I should visit my Mom first. She deserves to know the truth about everything.”

“Want me to go with you?”

Spencer shook his head, “No, I need to do this alone. Besides, the faster we finish up at the precinct the sooner the jet can take us all back to Quantico. You should go back to the station and help them do that.”

“Whatever you want,” Derek said, giving his skinny arm a gentle squeeze.

Spencer wanted to kiss him, but he was too scared to do it in front of all these officers. He also really didn’t want to deal with the team finding out just yet, if they didn’t already know.

“I’ll meet you at the jet,” Spencer said, giving his hand a squeeze before leaving to go ask Hotch to borrow one of the SUVs.

* * *

Spencer made his way to his Mom’s room. The nursing staff had told her she was reading in there today. He was thankful she was having one of her good days because he knew he couldn’t have this conversation with her on one of her bad ones. He’d already alerted the staff that what he had to tell her today could set her off, so they’d be ready if she had an episode.

He knocked on the door, “Mom? It’s Spencer.”

He heard things shift behind the door before it was pulled open.

“Spencer!” she smiled, “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

She pulled him into a hug and he smiled.

“Sorry, we were one a case. It was a time sensitive one, so I really didn’t have time to call.”

“Well, it’s good to see you. Shall we go to the sitting room?”

Spencer swallowed nervously, “Actually, Mom, I think it would be best if we stayed in your room today.”

“Why?” she asked, already able to tell that something was deeply wrong.

“Let’s sit down first, okay?”

She nodded and led him into the room. He closed the door behind them before sitting next to her on the bed. He kept opening his mouth to speak, but he didn’t know where to begin.

“What is it, baby?” Diana prompted him, “I can tell something is really bothering you.”

He cleared this throat and finally was able to find his voice, “Mom, do you remember when I got pregnant at 15?”

“Yes, I felt so bad when you got home from the hospital and I realized I’d failed you,” she recalled, “I remember giving birth to you. It was exhausting and terrifying enough with your father there to support me. I can’t even imagine what it was like for you. You were so young.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he comforted her, “But I’m more referring to what I told you about the baby’s father.”

“You said it was some bastard student who left you as soon as he found out you were pregnant.”

“I know, but I lied.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Then who was it?”

Spencer looked down in shame at his hands in his lap as he picked at his nails.

“During the Winter and Spring semesters at Caltech when I was 15, I was being molested by my chemistry professor, Dr. Edwards. He’s the one who got me pregnant.”

She gasped in shock, one of her hands covering her mouth. Spencer could see tears start to form in her eyes as she reached over to brush her fingers down his face.

“Oh Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, a few tears rolling down her cheeks, “I had no idea.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he replied, taking her hand in his, “I never wanted you to know, but I realize now that you deserve the truth.”

“What prompted this sudden confession?”

“It was the case we just finished,” he revealed, “The unsub... the bad guy we were chasing turned out to be my son.”

She shook her head, “Oh baby...”

“He’s a serial killer, Mom. He’ll most likely be sentenced to death here in a couple days.”

She didn’t say anything more, she just pulled him into a warm hug and Spencer let himself relax and feel safe in her arms, just like he had 18 years ago when he’d first told her he was pregnant. They stayed that way for a long time, crying into each other’s shoulders. He didn’t tell her anymore about the case, not wanting to reveal just how depraved and horrible his son had grown up to be. He was just glad there weren’t any secrets between them anymore.

Eventually, he bid her farewell and left to collect his things from the hotel and go home. He was more than ready to put all of this behind him. As he drove to the airstrip, he started to notice he was sweating a little more than normal and his hands were shaking. He could also already feel his mind demanding he find a way to shut down and forget.

Now that the adrenaline and anxiety from the case was wearing off, his dilaudid cravings were starting to kick in. He’d known this was going to happen and he was ready for it. He boarded the jet and sat down next to Derek. He too noticed the signs of him craving dilaudid having helped him through them multiple times.

“Don’t leave me alone,” Spencer asked him, taking his warm hand in his shaking, clammy one.

“Wasn’t planning on it, pretty boy,” he assured him as the jet took off into the sky.

Ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by their team, Spencer leaned to the side and rested his on Derek’s shoulder, keeping theirs finger entwined. He didn’t care if they figured out they’d started something together during the case. He just needed Derek’s comforting touch after all he’d endured and for the long nights that were still sure to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends, I do believe we are nearing the end of this story. Probably only one or two chapters left. Thank you for all your support. <3


	15. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait. It’s been a hell of a week.

As soon as they landed, the whole team could tell their resident genius was pretty out of it. His eyes kept unfocusing and he was basically leaning all of his weight on Derek. The older man just wrapped an arm around his back and guided him towards his car.

“Wait!” they heard a woman call from behind them.

Spencer looked back to see Penelope running as fast as her pink high heels would let her towards them.

“I need to see him,” she explained, her arms already reaching out towards him.

Already knowing what she wanted, Spencer pushed away from Derek and accepted her into a hug. Her arms weren’t as comforting as Derek’s but he was happy to see her. He could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo as he pressed his cheek against her blonde hair.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean to expose you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Penelope,” he assured her, “You were just doing your job. There’s no way you could’ve known that was going to happen. I’m just glad it’s over.”

She pulled away and cupped his jawline, “Now you go home and rest.”

He smiled softly at her, “I don’t think Derek will let me do anything else.”

She kissed him on the cheek and sent him off with a quick ruffle of his hair. On his way to the car where Derek was waiting for him, Hotch stopped him.

“I want you to take the next couple days off,” his boss told him, “Derek is off, too. We both know you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Thanks, Hotch,” he replied, “What if we get a case?”

“I’m not planning on accepting any cases for the next 48 hours, but if we do end up having one, I’ll call you if I feel your presence is necessary.”

Spencer nodded, accepting his boss’ demand that he take some time off without argument. He was thankful, however, that Hotch didn’t doubt his ability to work if he was needed. Spencer climbed into the car with Derek and they took off. It wasn’t long before they were pulling up to Derek’s house. The older agent led him into the house and insisted on carrying his bag.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” Derek suggested, “I’ll make some tacos for dinner.”

He shook his head, “I’m not up to eating just yet.”

Derek sighed, “You know not eating is just going to make it worse.”

Spencer groaned, knowing the older man was right, “Fine, but I can’t promise I’ll eat a whole lot.”

Accepting the answer for what it was, Derek handed him his go bag and left him to shower. Not wanting to be alone for an extended period of time, he made quick work of his shower and left the room. He could smell the cooking meat as he made his way into the kitchen. He rounded the corner and could see that Derek had already changed into a pair of sweats as was standing in front of the stove shirtless. In the past, he would’ve just stayed hidden and watched the man, admiring the view, but now he knew he was allowed to touch him. Spencer walked up beside him and tapped his shoulder.

“What is it, pretty boy?” he asked, turning his head to look at him.

Not in the mood to talk, Spencer just grabbed his free arm and pulled it around his back so that he could hug Derek’s side, his head resting on the front of his shoulder blade. The man just chuckled and pulled him closer as he finished cooking. When he was done, Spencer pouted at having to let go of him so he could put the tacos together. But he sat down at the table and waited patiently for him to be finished. Spencer did his best, but he was only able to stomach eating one taco.

“Okay baby, time for bed,” Derek spoke softly as he cleaned up the table.

Spencer was so tired he didn’t even pretend to complain. The last few days had completely whipped him out. He slowly made his way over to the couch where he normally slept, but an arm around his waist stopped him.

“Nuh uh, pretty boy,” came Derek’s soft voice, “You’re coming with me back to the bed.”

“But I always sleep here?”

“Not anymore. Now that I know we both love each other, we are never sleeping in separate beds under the same roof ever again.”

Spencer smiled at the older man, “So what? Are we boyfriends now?”

“I sure hope so.”

Spencer leaned in and kissed him deeply, “Good.”

Giving him another kiss, Spencer let Derek lead him down the hallway to his bed. He pulled back the covers and slipped under them while Derek walked around to the other side to do the same. As soon as they were both under the covers, Derek pulled the younger man close, kissing him again.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he whispered against Spencer curls, “you need it.”

Spencer tried to follow that request, but now that he was actually trying to quiet his mind, it wouldn’t stop spinning. That’s when he realized he’d never said goodbye to Paul. He knew the man tortured him, but he was still his son and he’d run away from him.

“I didn’t say goodbye,” he whispered, barely even registering that he’d said it out loud until Derek responded.

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking down at him in confusion.

“Paul,” Spencer explained, “I bolted from that room and then never went back. I abandoned him again. This time to prison and death.”

“Baby, he tortured you. If you had gone back in there-“

“I know, Derek, I do. It’s just... I don’t know. Even after everything, he’s still my son. I shouldn’t have just run away.”

“You didn’t run  _ away _ from your son. You ran  _ to _ save a baby that he put in danger.”

“I could’ve gone back. Told him we saved the baby and then said goodbye.”

“He just would’ve found a new way to hurt you,” Derek reasoned with him.

“Even knowing that, I still feel guilty about it.”

“You shouldn’t. When you first met him, you wanted nothing more than to protect him.”

“And I failed.”

“It wasn’t your fault he chose to charge at you,” Derek reminded him, “Even knowing what he’d done, you still wanted to protect him. He rejected your help and that’s on him.”

Spencer sighed against his boyfriend’s chest. A sigh that quickly morphed into a yawn.

“Baby, please go to sleep. You need to rest,” Derek begged him.

Spencer blinked up at him and went to protest, but he could feel himself falling asleep. Finally giving up the fight within his body to stay awake and beat himself up for failing his son, Spencer closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

Everything that’s happened over the case led them both on one of the most extreme roller coasters of Derek’s life. On one hand, Spencer had discovered his son is a psychopathic serial killer, but on the other, they’d finally admitted their feelings to one another and were at the beginning of what Derek hoped would be a long and loving relationship. They had kissed a lot, but they both knew Spencer hadn’t been ready for anything more while he was recovering.

The first week after the case was difficult. Spencer was plagued with nightmares for days and afterwards his whole body would be racked with cravings. But Derek was there with him through it all. Every time he woke up whether it was screaming or silently crying, he was right there with him to cuddle him against his chest and whisper sweet reassurances in his ear.

But now, almost a month later, Spencer was doing a lot better. They’d been out on three cases since Las Vegas and each time they were alone, their makeout sessions were getting more and more heated. Spencer still felt a lot of guilt over what had happened to his son, but he was learning to move past it. Derek knew that Spencer would never fully let it go, but he would learn to live without it crushing him.

Derek also knew that Henry had helped him heal a lot. JJ had asked them to babysit Henry a couple times over the past month for the sole purpose that she knew Spencer needed it. Derek loved to sit on the couch and watch as Spencer wowed the young boy with magic tricks. He also loved to watch Spencer attempt to play video games with Henry. He wasn’t very good at it and was constantly running Mario off the track, but he kept at it.

Spencer was also practically living with him at this point. There were random books scattered all across his house, in his living room, bedroom, and even his bathroom one time. He had at least half his wardrobe in the closet and all his everyday items were here. Spencer hadn’t wanted to be alone for a long time after the case, but now it seemed like he’d forgotten he had an apartment of his own.

Not that Derek minded, he loved having him here every night. He loved waking up to the other man. He loved being able to touch and kiss him all day long. He’d even fallen in love with Spencer’s grumbled non-words in the morning before he had his coffee. It hadn’t taken Derek very long to figure out the best way to get Spencer out of bed on his days off was to get up, brew coffee, and then bring a large cup of it and set it on the nightstand. Spencer would wake up from the smell and instantly snatch the cup, letting out pleased little hums as he drank. Derek would be hard pressed to think of anything more adorable than that.

Currently, they were sitting on the couch watching TV after a long day of paperwork at the office. Spencer laying with his back pressed up against Derek’s chest. At least, Derek was watching TV while Spencer was steadily making his way through his second book of the day. Glancing down at the book, he could tell it was in a foreign language and it was thick. Tuning out the TV, Derek just focused on watching his boyfriend’s fingers skim across each page as he read like only he could, his lips moving slightly as he went.

Unable to resist, Derek leaned over and gently kissed the side of Spencer’s throat. He smiled when he noticed his fingers had stopped scanning the book. He kissed him again, this time just under his jawline.

Spencer hummed his approval as he angled his head to give Derek more room to work. Derek immediately started kissing up and down his exposed throat before settling on the junction between his shoulder and his throat. Spencer groaned as his boyfriend set about giving him a hickey to one of the most tender areas of his neck.

Derek could feel himself getting aroused by the noises Spencer was making as he devoured his neck. He slowly brought his arms around Spencer’s wasit, his hands coming to rest on his stomach. For weeks, he’d been wanting to push their relationship to the next level, but he’d been happy waiting for Spencer to recover. Now, however, he hoped the younger man was ready for a little something more, but he wanted to be absolutely sure.

Nipping gently at the curve of Spencer’s ear, Derek asked, “Baby, if you’re ready, I want to make you feel good. Can I touch you?”

To show him where he wanted to touch him, Derek slowly moved his hand slightly downward, towards the waistband of his sleep pants. Spencer appeared to ponder this for a second before closing his book and reaching over to set it on the coffee table.

Spencer turned his head back to look at his boyfriend. He kissed him deeply, his hand coming up to caress Derek’s jaw.

Breaking the kiss, his eyes opened and he nodded, “I want you to touch me, I’m just not sure I’m ready to go all the way.”

“Not a problem, we can go as fast or as slow as you want.”

Derek kissed him again as his hand dropped lower to run over the long strings on his pants. He felt Spencer’s hips shift slightly under the touch, but he kept on kissing him, not telling him to stop. Feeling more confident, Derek slipped his hand under the pants, keeping his finger on top of his boyfriend’s underwear. His fingers ran down the flat expanse of his pelvis until he came into contact with his cock. He gently moved two of his fingers around it and rubbed.

Spencer gasped into his mouth as he did that, his fingers curling into a fist on his lap. Derek used his thumb to rub over the head and Spencer moaned, rocking his hips up slightly. Getting the message, Derek’s fingers moved forward and were quickly met by damp fabric. Derek quickly found the source of the moisture and pressed his fingers up against his boyfriend’s front hole. Spencer whined as he rubbed against his hole, making his boxers even wetter.

“Please,” he whimpered against Derek’s throat, “I want you to touch me.”

Happy to oblige the younger man’s request, Derek withdrew his hand in order to slip it under the waistband of his boxers. Kissing Spencer’s throat as his fingers ran through the short, curly hairs there as he moved towards where Spencer wanted him. One of Spencer’s hands was still laid against Derek’s throat while the other fisted itself in his pant leg.

Once he came into contact with his cock, Derek took it between his finger and rubbed. Spencer gasped, his hips shuddering beneath him. Derek moved his thumb to run around the head as Spencer’s head fell back against his shoulder. He watched as Spencer unconsciously spread his legs a little wider to make room for his hand, pressing his hips up against his hand. Derek licked the shell of his ear and he shivered.

With no signs that he was having second thoughts, Derek decided to take it further. His fingers left his boyfriend’s cock and moved south, following the wet trail to his boyfriend’s front hole. He paused to rub his finger from his cock down to just above his opening, getting him used to the feeling. Spencer whined and shifted his hips again, trying to get Derek’s fingers to go where he really wanted them.

Derek chuckled against his boyfriend’s ear, “You enjoying yourself, pretty boy?”

Spencer whined, “Yes.”

Derek used his free hand to pull his face towards him so he could kiss him. As he did so, he let his fingers finally graze over Spencer’s front hole. It was so wet and open already, Derek felt his own cock twitch in excitement. But this wasn’t about him right now, it was about Spencer so he ignored it. He ran his fingers lightly around the opening a few times before gently pressing his middle finger against the opening, allowing the tip of it to just barely breach it.

Spencer moaned at the feeling and tried to move his body to take the finger in deeper. Spencer has longed for his touch for so long, he wasn’t sure he could stand another second of not having the older man’s fingers inside him.

“You ready, baby boy?” Derek asked him, just to be sure.

“Please,” he whimpered, rocking his hips desperately against Derek’s hand.

Derek pulled him back into their kiss as he allowed his middle finger to push against the younger man’s hole. Spencer gasped against his mouth as the finger pushed inside. Derek pushed it in halfway before withdrawing it, letting Spencer get used to the sensation of having someone other than himself inside him.

“Derek,” Spencer whined, “I’m not made of glass.”

The older man smiled at his boyfriend’s impatience, “I just want to make sure you feel safe. I don’t want to push you.”

“As much as I love the sentiment, I should tell you I’ve had sex since then. Not with anyone who had a penis, but still. You’re not going to hurt me,” Spencer promised, moving his fisted hand to cover Derek’s and press down.

Feeling slightly better knowing that, Derek pushed his middle finger in all the way, curling it up against Spencer’s g-spot. Spencer moaned as he did that, spreading his legs wider and bending them at the knees slightly. Derek couldn’t help but feel pride at how the younger man was responding to his touch.

Derek started shallowly moving his finger back and forth inside him, making sure to press up against his sweet spot each time. With Spencer’s noises of pleasure spurring him on, he started to thrust his finger harder and faster.

“More!” Spencer demanded, rocking his hips slightly up to meet each thrust.

Pulling him into another kiss, Derek obliged him and slowed his pace to press another finger in alongside the first one. He pushed them both in up to the knuckle and Spencer keened at the stretch.

“Ugh,” Spencer groaned, his head falling back against Derek’s shoulder again, “I knew your fingers were going to be so much bigger and better than mine.”

“You think about me doing this to you often?” Derek teased him, remembering the shower back at the hotel.

Spencer couldn’t help the crimson blush that spread across his face. Spencer attempted to turned his head away to keep Derek from noticing, but it was too late.

Derek’s fingers stilled as he laughed softly at his boyfriend’s reaction, “Did you really just get shy and blush over your fantasies while my fingers are currently buried inside you?”

“Shut up,” Spencer whined, covering his face with his hands.

“God, I love you baby,” he chuckled against his throat, resuming the deep thrusts of his fingers.

Spencer moaned at the feeling, quickly forgetting his momentary shyness. As Derek’s finger’s sped up, his moans continued to rise in pitch. Derek could tell he was nearing his climax as his hips started to shake as they matched his every thrust. One of Spencer’s hands moved to grab the forearm of the hand currently thrusting in and out of him, the other was holding onto the back Derek’s neck for dear life.

Wanting to push him over the edge and give him as much pleasure as possible, Derek added his free hand to the mix. It snaked down Spencer’s flat stomach and disappeared under his pants and boxers. He quickly settled the new hand around Spencer’s cock, his fingers jerking him off and rubbing the head. Spencer’s eyes rolled back in his head at the added sensation and he came.

“Derek!” he shouted, his fingers tightening around his arm.

Derek kept thrust his fingers deep inside him, helping him ride out the high. As he started to come down, he could hear Spencer’s panting breaths in his ears. Spencer whined at the overstimulation and Derek pulled his hands away. He was happy to see the blissed out, relaxed look on his boyfriend’s face.

Spencer’s eyes eventually found his and Derek could see the devilish glint in his eye. Before he could even comment on it, Spencer was grabbing the hand that had been inside him and brought it up to his mouth. He opened his mouth and took Derek’s pointer finger into his mouth, licking him clean. Derek growled deep in his throat at the sight, his own arousal making itself known to him once again. He watched in amazement as Spencer did the same thing to his middle finger before running his tongue over the flat of his palm.

“Oh fuck me, pretty boy,” Derek groaned.

Spencer smiled up at him and teased him, “Later.”

Having caught his breath by now, Spencer moved to push himself up off Derek. He turned around and slid off the couch and onto the floor. Immediately Derek tried to remind him that he didn’t owe him anything.

“Babe, if you don’t want to-“ he started, but was cut off.

“I want to,” Spencer assured him, “I may not have done this since... but I feel safe with you. I know you’d never force me to do anything I don’t want to.”

Now that Spencer had confirmed he wasn’t doing this because he felt obligated, but because he wanted to, Derek allowed himself to relax and enjoy the view. He watched as Spencer confidently reached up to pull his sleep pants and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out. He couldn’t help but preen at the slightly widened eyes of his boyfriend as he took in how big he was. Standing, uncircumcised, at seven inches long and five inches around.

Smiling and licking his bottom lip in anticipation, Spencer pushed up to lean over Derek’s lap. His hands reached for Derek’s engorged cock and wrapped around him, pumping him gently. Not happy with the uncomfortable friction, Spencer went to lick his hand before his eyes lit up with that same devilish look. Derek groaned as Spencer reached into his own pants, gathering up the leftover fluid from his own orgasm. He brought his hand back up to Derek’s cock and was happy with the response he got.

The added wetness made the slide of his hand feel so much better and Derek couldn’t help but thrust up into his hand slightly. Smirking at his reaction, Spencer sped up his hand, his thumb rubbing over his sensitive head. Derek groaned at the feeling and allowed his head to fall back against the couch, his eyes closed, as he enjoyed the sensation.

His eyes snapped open and he gasped in shock when he suddenly felt the flat of Spencer’s touch run from the base of his cock to the tip, following the sensitive vein on the underside of it. Spencer smirked as he flicked his tongue against the exposed head before taking just the tip into his mouth and sucking.

Derek groaned long and deep as his boyfriend took him into his mouth. He could feel his tongue rubbing on the sensitive underside and then flicking against the sensitive head again. Spencer glanced up at him through his lashes before hollowing his cheeks and taking more of him into his mouth. He started to bob his head up and down the shaft, his hand taking care of what he couldn’t fit into his mouth.

When Spencer hummed around Derek moaned and fisted his hands on the couch. Spencer saw this and reached over with his free hand to thread their fingers together as best he could. His other hand went under Derek’s cock to gently fondle his balls. Derek growled and tightened his grip on Spencer’s hand.

Spencer listened carefully to the other man’s moans as he brought him closer and closer to the edge. He sucked him and teased him with his tongue all while jerking off what he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

“Babe, I’m gonna...” Derek tried to warn him, the familiar heat building in the pit of his stomach as he inched towards the end.

Thankful for the warning, Spencer continued his ministrations, determined to push his boyfriend over the edge. Just as he was about to come, Spencer pulled his head back so only the tip remained and flicked his tongue against his head.

“Spencer!” Derek shouted as he came, his eyes falling closed and his fist tightening even more around Spencer’s.

Cum flooded Spencer’s mouth and it took him a second, but he managed to swallow all of it. He pulled off his boyfriend’s cock, not wanting to cause him discomfort from overstimulating him. Spencer waited patiently for Derek to come back to himself after his orgasm, even if his knees were starting to hurt a little bit.

Derek opened his eyes and looked down his body at his boyfriend still kneeling in front of him. He gently tucked himself away before leaning forward to grab him and pull him up into his lap. Spencer sat down with one of his legs in between Derek’s so he was straddling one of his thighs. The two kissed deeply and Derek found himself enjoying the taste of their release on his boyfriend’s lips. Breaking apart for air, Derek smiled at him.

“If you’re that responsive during a hand job, I cannot wait to see your reaction when I put my mouth on you for the first time,” Derek whispered lowly against Spencer’s ear, still panting slightly.

Spencer’s only reply was a breathy moan as he rutted against Derek’s leg. Derek’s eyebrow rose high onto his forehead.

“Don’t tell me you’re already gunning for round two,” Derek teased him and Spencer blushed.

Clearing his throat he replied shyly, “One nice thing about this body is I can cum multiple times without having to wait for the standard 20-25 mintue refractory period men normally need to pass. But I figured you would know that already.”

Derek smirked and kissed the side of Spencer's throat before whispering in his ear, “I wonder how many times I could make you cum before I’m ready for another round.”

Spencer whined and shuddered against his leg at the comment.

Spencer bit his lip and moved his head so he could stare directly into his boyfriend’s eyes, “Want to find out?”

It was Derek’s turn to grin mischievously, tightening his grip around Spencer’s back. Spencer squeaked in surprise and wrapped his legs firmly around Derek’s waist as he was suddenly lifted up in his boyfriend’s strong arms when he stood. He carried the smaller man back to the bedroom and tossed him gently onto the bed.

Spencer wasted no time in pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the room. He then swiftly moved back to lay his head against the pillows and spread his legs, pulling them up to bend at the knees, his feet still planted on the bed. His arms bent under him to prop his upper body up so he could stare at him with a seductive, beckoning gaze.

Derek groaned at the obvious invitation, “Pretty boy, you’re going to be the death of me.”


	16. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut with a fluffy epilogue. Perfect

“Pretty boy, you’re going to be the death of me.”

Spencer laughed from his position on the bed, his head pressing back into the pillows. Derek stalked slowly over to him, his eyes roaming up and down his body. Spencer could see the borderline predatory glint in his eyes and he shivered. He could feel himself getting wet all over again and he couldn’t help but rock his hips back and forth slightly. He heard Derek chuckle and he blushed.

“How is it,” Derek mused, crawling onto the bed, “that you can get shy talking about sex while having sex?”

Spencer blushed harder, “I don’t know.”

Derek moved so he was kneeling between Spencer’s spread legs.

“Well I find it adorable,” he admitted, placing one hand on each of his knees.

Derek ran his hands up Spencer’s thighs and settled on his hips. He leaned over him and started leaving tiny kisses on his lower torso, nipping with his teeth at his sides. His fingers eventually found themselves hooked on his sleep pants and boxers, tugging gently.

“Are you okay with this?” Derek asked him, glancing up at him.

Spencer nodded, lifting his hips up off the bed, “Yeah, I’m good.”

With his consent, Derek pulled the clothing down his legs, tossing them somewhere in the direction of his previously discarded shirt. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious now that he was fully exposed to his boyfriend for the first time. He looked up at Derek, but the man’s eyes weren’t fixed on his face.

“Babe?” Derek asked, his hands gently sliding up and down his legs, “I want to taste you. Can I?”

Spencer moaned and let his head fall back at the request, “Please.”

In no time, Derek was laid down with his head poised above his cock. He started with his fingers, two of them coming up to rub and jerk his cock. His thumb brushed over the head and Spencer moaned, closing his eyes to focus on the sensations. He felt Derek take a firm grip on the underside of his thighs and push them back slightly to give him even better access. And despite knowing what Derek intended to do, he gasped in surprise when he felt his tongue brush against the head of his cock. Yes, he’d had sex with other people after he turned 18, but it had still been a while.

Derek’s lips closed around his cock, his tongue sliding over it and the folds next to it. It felt so good to finally have Derek’s mouth on him. He whined at the feeling and it took every he had not to press his pelvis up against his face. Derek’s tongue flicked against the head of his cock and Spencer cried out in pleasure. At his cry, Derek hummed around him, sending wonderful vibrations across his skin.

Removing Spencer’s cock from his mouth, Derek licked down his folds, his tongue dipping in between them. Spencer couldn’t help but start to rock his hips gently, the feeling of Derek’s wet tongue slipping down his slit was so good. The grip on his thighs shifted so Derek could hold his hips steady against the mattress.

Spencer let out a choked gasp as he felt Derek’s tongue graze over his front hole. Seemingly happy with the reaction, Derek continued to drag his tongue around his entrance without ever entering it.

“Derek,” Spencer complained, but all he got in response was a huffed out laugh from his partner.

Spencer fisted his hands in the bed sheets as his anticipation rose. Derek pulled off him and gently blew cold air onto his wet entrance. Spencer shivered at the sensation and desperately tried to lift his hips up towards Derek’s mouth, but the strong hands on his hips kept him planted firmly in place.

Spencer pouted at not getting what he wanted and Derek chuckled, deciding to finally indulge his boyfriend’s needs. Lowering his head back down, he ran his tongue over his winking entrance a few more times before finally allowing just the tip of it to breach his body. Spencer groaned and tried in vain to lift his hips to get the wonderfully wet muscle deeper, but again he was prevented from doing so.

And just as quick as it was there, his tongue was gone. Instead, it ran back up to toy with his cock, sending shivers down Spencer’s spine.

“Derek please,” he begged, wanting, no needing, Derek’s tongue inside him.

“Patience, pretty boy,” came Derek’s reply.

“I have waited years for this, please do not make me wait any longer.”

Derek laughed lightly at him, but he took Spencer’s wish to heart. His tongue ran over his folds a few more times before it dipped down and slipped inside Spencer’s front hole. Spencer let out a long moan as Derek basically started fucking him with his tongue, the wet muscle thrusting in and out of him, opening him up beautifully. 

He felt like his whole body was on fire as Derek moved one of his hands away from Spencer’s hips to jerk his cock in rhythm with his tongue. Spencer knew he was close as he gripped the bedding even tighter.

“Derek!” he cried out as he came, covering Derek’s lower jaw with cum.

But Derek didn’t let up. His tongue kept right on fucking him through it, his fingers still rubbing his cock. Spencer thrashed his head around at the overstimulation, but he could also feel himself getting ready for his third orgasm. Spencer cried out again as one of Derek’s thick fingers pushed inside him, his mouth moving to suck his cock. As second finger and then a third joined the first and he nearly cried in bliss at the stretch.

Those three fingers practically pounded into him, jabbing against his sweet spot each time. Derek flicked his tongue against the head of his cock before sucking. Spencer felt like he couldn’t breathe as his eyes rolled back in his head and his gut coiled up for the third time. It didn’t take long for him to tip over the edge and scream out his pleasure.

Derek worked him gently through the orgasm, but took pity on him and withdrew his fingers and mouth. He gently caressed the tops of Spencer’s thighs as he waited for the younger man to catch his breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer panted, finally coming down from his high.

Spencer could see the pride radiating from the older man, but he really couldn’t fault him for it. He was really good at all of that.

“Had enough, baby?” Derek asked, wiping the slick from his face.

Spencer glanced down between his boyfriend’s thighs and could clearly see the outline of his hard dick straining against the fabric of his sleep pants. He was tired and his legs felt like jelly, but as long as Derek didn’t expect him to ride him, he was perfectly happy to keep going.

Instead of answering Derek’s question verbally, Spencer turned onto his side and reached for the nightstand. He’d accidentally discovered where Derek stored his condoms and lube a couple weeks ago while putting some of his stuff away. He quickly grabbed a condom from the box and tossed it to Derek. His eyebrows rose high up on his brow, glancing from the foil package back up at his boyfriend.

“I thought you said you weren’t ready for this?” Derek wondered gesturing with the packet.

“What I said was that I wasn’t sure,” Spencer corrected him, “I’m sure now. I want this.”

“If you need to stop at any time-”

“I know, I’ll tell you. I trust you to stop if I ask you to.”

Derek nodded, a smirk breaking across his face, “I should probably take my pants off now.”

“Yes please,” Spencer replied, licking his lips as his gaze concentrated on the bulge in Derek’s pants.

He was slightly nervous, however. He’s had sex since Edwards, but he hasn’t been on the recieving end since then. All of his partners were trans men like him or women and he’d always preferred to be on top. It’s not that he didn’t want Derek inside him, he was just worried about not being very good at this part of it.

Derek wasted no time in stripping off the rest of his clothes and tossing them aside. He must have seen Spencer’s nervousness in his face, however, because he paused.

“Spencer, are you really ready for this?” he asked.

Spencer quickly assured him, “Yeah, I’m just a little nervous. I haven’t been on the receiving end of sex since... I just want this to be good for both of us. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Derek leaned over him and lowered himself down to kiss him. Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek’s shoulders as their tongue entwined and he could taste himself on his lips.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, but if you want to stop...” Derek reiterated, but Spencer pressed a finger to his lips.

“No, I want to do this. It’s just that I might as well be a virgin when it comes to being on the receiving end of sexual intercourse. I realize you literally just had three fingers and your tongue inside me, but this is different. I was always on top when I did this with my previous partners and with _him_ , it was always unwanted and painful.”

Spencer could see the sadness in Derek’s eyes, but he didn’t want this to ruin the moment any further.

Spencer lifted his legs up and locked them around Derek’s waist bringing his cock down into contact with his. They both groaned softly at the contact.

“Derek,” Spencer continued, “Please show me what it is like to be loved in this way. I want to know what it feels like.”

Derek groaned and kissed him. They stayed like this for a while, just kissing and bathing in each other’s presence and love. Spencer gasped when Derek shifted his hips to rub their cocks together. He let his head fall back against the pillows and Derek started working his way down the long expanse of his neck with his mouth, leaving kisses and little nips as he went.

After sucking a couple hickeys on Spencer’s collarbone, Derek sat back up on his knees and grabbed the condom. Spencer watched with anticipation as the older man tore the wrapper open and rolled it onto his cock with practiced ease. He pumped himself a few times before leaning back over Spencer, coming to rest on his elbows above him.

Spencer wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. One of Derek’s hands traveled down Spencer’s body and grabbed his own cock. He rubbed the head of it gently against Spencer’s folds, getting him used to the feeling. Spencer felt his hole clench slightly as the head of Derek’s cock passed over it.

He could hear the wet sounds coming from doing that and he couldn’t help but blush a little at how wet he was. Between his normal amount of lubrication and cuming three times, he was very, very wet. He heard Derek chuckled above him and he knew he’d seen the blush on his face. He didn’t say anything though, he just kissed him and pressed his cock a little harder against him. Spencer shuddered as the head of Derek’s cock pressed up against his front hole without going in.

“Are you ready?” Derek asked, wanting to be completely sure Spencer was on board with this.

Spencer swallowed, “Yes, I’ve loved you since I was 23. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to feel you inside me.”

Derek kissed him deeply as he pressed his cock firmly against his entrance. Spencer gasped into the kiss as the head of Derek’s cock pushed inside him. His cock was definitely bigger than three of his fingers. Hell, it was even bigger than some of his toys back at his apartment. Spencer broke the kiss and groaned as Derek slid in a little deeper, about an inch or so of his cock now inside him.

“You doing okay, pretty boy?”

Spencer groaned, his nails biting into the tops of Derek’s shoulder blades, “I’m good. You’re just so, very big.”

Spencer could practically feel Derek’s preening at the compliment and he smiled. Spencer breathed deeply as Derek continued to push in, now almost half of his cock inside his front hole. The stretch felt so good and so foreign at the same time. Spencer dug his heels into Derek’s back just a little in an attempt to push him deeper. Kissing the side of his pale throat, Derek complied with the nonverbal request, sliding the rest of the way in so that his balls were pressed up against Spencer’s ass.

“God damn you’re tight. Feels so good, Spencer,” Derek groaned, obviously using all of his willpower to not just start pounding into Spencer’s pliant body.

“Minute,” Spencer panted, sweat running down the side of his face, “I just need a minute. Good god you’re big.”

Derek laughed lightly, his own sweat glistening on his forehead, “You better stop that baby boy or you’re going to give me one hell of an ego.”

“Like you don’t already have one,” Spencer scoffed, smacking his hand against his chest in jest.

Spencer rocked his hips up against his partner to let him know he was okay to move. Derek withdrew until only the tip of his cock remained inside before pushing the way back in. He did this over and over, sticking to a slow, but deep, rhythm.

Having just cum, Spencer let himself enjoy the easy pace, soft breathy moans constantly leaving his lips. Spencer focused on the full feeling of having the man he loved buried to the hilt inside him. He kissed his face, neck, chest, everywhere he could reach as he rocked his hips in time with Derek’s thrusts.

Slowly, the intensity started to build. Derek’s thrusts quickened with him pulling out only a couple inches before pushing back in. He shifted his hips to hit Spencer’s sweet spot causing him to cry out in pleasure. Spencer unhooked his feet from behind Derek’s back and pressed them flat on the bed to get more leverage to push back, but Derek decided he had a different idea.

Pausing his thrusts and pulling up from covering him, Derek hooked his arms under Spencer’s knees and lifted them up onto his shoulders. When Derek leaned in and resumed thrusting, fast and deep inside him, Spencer practically choked on air. He whined in pleasure at how the new angle allowed his boyfriend to get even deeper. It also rendered him almost completely immobile, leaving him unable to push back against each thrust. Meaning all he could do was lie there and take whatever Derek gave him.

His pace continued to increase, making Spencer’s whole body move and up and down on the bed. Their moans mingled with the sound of slapping skin, creating their own sweet music. Soon, however, Spencer started to feel that familiar pressure in the pit of his stomach. He knew he was close and from the look on Derek’s face, he was getting close too.

Wanting him closer, Spencer reached up from the bed and grabbed his legs, pulling them down and bending them off to either side of his chest. This forced Derek to bend his elbows and lean down further, his rhythm momentarily faltering.

“Kiss me,” Spencer begged, barely finding enough air to say it.

Sweat ran down off of Derek and dripped onto Spencer’s heated skin as he obliged the request. As their lips moved together, though they were both breathing so heavily it was more like panting into each other’s mouths, Derek repositioned his arms so he was on his elbows above Spencer. This allowed Derek to press their chests together and with Derek’s arms no longer in the way, Spencer spread his thighs as wide as was comfortable and kept them bent up at his sides. That’s when Derek resumed his thrusts, delivering short and fast thrusts that nailed his sweet spot every time making Spencer want to scream. And he probably would’ve if Derek didn’t currently have his tongue down his throat.

Spencer felt that coil in his gut pull even tighter and he was forced to break the kiss in order to breathe. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s back and held on for dear life as his head lolled back onto the pillows.

“I’m gonna-“ Spencer tried to warn him.

“I know, pretty boy,” the older man cut him off, voice strained with effort, “Me too.”

Derek’s pace intensified as his thrusts started to get a little sloppy. Unable to hold on anymore, Spencer felt his eyes roll back into his head as he came for the fourth time tonight.

“Derek!” he screamed, his whole body shuddering as his orgasm ripped through him.

Derek groaned deep in his throat as Spencer’s hole contracted around his cock, squeezing it even tighter. Derek pushed himself faster, chasing his own release. After a few more thrusts, he came hard.

“Spencer!” Derek shouted as he spilled into the condom, Spencer’s wall contracting and squeezing every last drop out of him.

He gave Spencer a few more thrusts before rolling them to their sides and collapsing, his cock still buried inside the younger man. Spencer pulled himself over so they were laying chest to chest, relishing the feeling of still having Derek’s softening cock inside him.

Derek rested their foreheads against one another as they caught their breath. As time passed, Derek could feel his cock started to become overstimulated so he gently pulled out of Spencer’s hole. Spencer pouted a little bit at the loss, now feeling kind of empty. He watched Derek pull the condom off, tie it and toss it into the trashcan behind him. With that taken care of, Spencer gently pulled Derek in for a kiss, which quickly turned into a sensual, post-coital make out session.

When they were done, they each took turns cleaning themselves up in the bathroom before climbing back in bed. And much to Spencer’s delight, the bed had clean sheets on it courtesy of Derek changing them while he was taking his shower.

Derek watched Spencer as he walked from the bathroom to the bed and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Spencer asked, throwing him a suspicious glance.

Derek raised his hands in surrender, “Nothing. You just might want to come up with a good excuse as to why you’re limping so bad before work tomorrow.”

Spencer glared at him, but was unable to hold back his smile as a blush bloomed across his face, “Shut up. This is your fault you know.”

Derek laughed, “I know and damn does it make me proud.”

Spencer swatted him good naturedly as he climbed into the bed next to Derek and laid down.

“I love you,” Spencer murmured as he drifted off, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder.

The older man smiled down at his boyfriend.

“I love you too, pretty boy,” he replied, kissing him lightly on the forehead before following him into sleep.

* * *

**Epilogue: 3 years later**

They all smiled and cooed as JJ and Will presented the team with their newest baby, Michael. They were all hanging out at JJ’s house to celebrate the new birth and welcome him to the BAU family. Spencer was so happy for her, but every time he looked at or held the baby, his stomach would clench painfully. It wasn’t like how it would hurt as he looked over case files involving hurt children, this wasn’t sympathy. It was like his body wanted something from him, something he was denying it.

Derek walked up behind him and presented him with a piece of cake which Spencer gladly accepted. They were three years strong into their relationship now. There had been a few bumps just like with any relationship, but they’d gotten through all of it together. Spencer subconsciously started rubbing the bullet wound scar on his neck from the shootout in Texas. It was something he found himself doing whenever his mind started to wander.

Derek must’ve noticed because he immediately asked, “What’s going on in that head of your, pretty boy?”

Spencer shrugged, taking a bite of his cake to delay answering.

Derek stepped in front of him and gave him a look, “Come on, I know something is bothering you. Out with it.”

“Now?” Spencer tried to brush it aside.

“Yes, now,” Derek insisted, “Don’t think for a second that I don’t know what you’re trying to do. You want me to drop it now so you can claim it was nothing later. That’s not going to work on me.”

“Do you still mean what you told me three years ago?” Spencer asked him, “Sitting on that couch back in that hotel room where we first confessed our feelings.”

Derek looked at him confused, “When I said I love you or do you mean when you asked me if I would actually consider having a baby with you someday?”

“Second one,” Spencer replied, ducking his head and looking away from his boyfriend, scared of his reaction.

He felt fingers under his chin lift his face back up to Derek’s where he saw nothing but sincerity and love.

“Of course I’d love to have a baby with you someday,” Derek reassured him, reaching out to rest his hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“What if it wasn’t someday?”

Derke stepped back from him and glanced up and down Spencer’s body, “Are you-?”

“No!” Spencer was quick to cut that line of thought off before it all got too confusing, “No, I’m not pregnant.”

“Okay...” he trailed off, even more confused.

“What I’m trying to say is... I think I want to be.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably on his feet before clarifying, “Derek, I want to have a baby.”

Derek’s eyebrows rose high up on his forehead in surprise and his mouth opened slightly. Spencer glanced over at the group of people talking and laughing on the far side of the room, all fawning over baby Michael.

“I think I’ve wanted this for a while, but today seeing JJ with Michael, I realized just how badly I want it,” he explained, wringing his hands, “I know it’s risky with my family’s mental health history, but I just... I want what she has. But if you don’t want to or you’re not ready, then we can wait or just not do it at all-“

Derek stopped him before he could spiral out of control by gently taking the plate out of his hands and pulling him into a tight hug.

“You want to know what I think?” Derek asked, his fingers carding through Spencer’s hair.

Spencer nodded against the leather of his boyfriend’s jacket, “Yes.”

He pulled back to gaze into Spencer’s eyes, “I think you need to talk to your doctor about going off your birth control and testosterone while I throw that new box of condoms we just bought into storage. I don’t think we’re going to be needing them for a while.”

Spencer’s whole face lit up with joy, “Are you serious?”

“Of course, pretty boy,” Derek smiled right back at him, “I can’t wait to have a baby with you. I’m sure you’re going to look so good carrying our baby.”

Spencer practically jumped on him in his excitement and rush to pull him into a hug, “I love you, Derek Morgan.”

“And I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who followed and supported me through the telling of this story. Your kudos and comments have meant so much to me. Thank you! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. <3


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